Bleach: A Collection
by Lewd Concubine
Summary: A collection of Bleach drabbles and fics. Aizen/Byakuya, Byakuya/Rukia, Szayel Aporro/Yylfordt, Chad/Ichigo, Aaroniero/Ukitake, Szayel Aporro/Orihime, Nnoitra/Szayel Aporro, Szayel Aporro/Grimmjow, Uryuu/Orihime, Ryuuken/Orihime, Mayuri/Ryuuken, Mayuri/Szayel, Grimmjow/Ichigo, Aizen/Szayel so far.
1. Break AiBya

**Pairing: **Aizen/Byakuya

**Theme: **Spell (kidou) at 15minutefic at LJ

**Rating: R**

**Disclamer: **I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from this story.

**Break**

**by: Naraku's Dark Soul**

Underneath him, Byakuya shifted uneasily. His characteristically stoic nature seemed to have been disrupted, probably because of the kidou currently inhibiting his higher mental processes. Regardless of this, Aizen continued stroking the man's erection, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. It had been so easy to bind Byakuya like this, Aizen was truly surprised that the strong warrior had fallen with just a flick of his wrist.

He had often thought of the younger man during those long, cold, lonely nights in Hueco Mundo. Despite having Gin and Ulquiorra as his pets, he couldn't forget the single-minded obsession he had had with Byakuya. Ever since he had seen him when he'd died and been sent to Soul Society, he couldn't take his eyes off the noble. He was so reserved, so _controlled_. Aizen wanted to break that iron-will, to watch the walls of his defenses crumble to ash as he forcefully took him. It had become an obsession of his, one he was unable to fulfill as a captain in the Gotei 13, but which he certainly could now.

Byakuya let out a moan, almost inaudible, but Aizen heard it as he brushed the slick head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, drawing circles with the pre-come there. This new kidou was far more useful than expected. He would be able to play with his new toy whenever he wanted; Byakuya wouldn't remember a thing. Although he badly wanted to break the man, the thought of taking it slow, of taking him whenever he wanted, was more than enough for Aizen. He would plant seeds of doubt in the Kuchiki noble, leave little marks on his body, whisper suggestions that he would be compelled to obey, leave Byakuya wondering about his own sanity as he sank deeper into his carefully planned trap. It would be a slow corruption, like a river carving its path through stone. This pleasure would be long and drawn out for him, much sweeter than if he had simply broken in his new toy in one night. His half-smile returned with this thought, as he fisted Byakuya's erection and pumped it hard, another moan slipping from between his heated lips.

Beneath him, Byakuya shuddered, his back bowing on the bed as he sprayed his essence all over his chest and Aizen's hand. He fell back to the bed, panting, chest heaving as the white liquid mingled with his own sweat. Still smiling, Aizen knew that one day the Kuchiki noble would willingly come to him. He would be his and I _only /I _ his. His to control and dominate. His toy. His.


	2. Serenity AiBya

-1**Pairing: **Aizen/Byakuya

**Theme: **one summer at bleach15 LJ, Rest at bleachcontest LJ

**Rating: **PG

**Disclamer: **I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from this story.

**Serenity**

**By: Naraku's Dark Soul**

Summer comes swiftly this year; spring is over before Byakuya realizes it. The temperature rises to near unbearable levels in the rukongai, but all is fine in the Kuchiki household. There are many pools to relax in and numerous koi ponds to stick his feet in when no one is looking. Although he won't admit it, Byakuya likes this time of year. It was in the summer so many years ago that he first met Aizen. He was nothing but an inquisitive child then, completely different from the somber man he is now, the day the slightly older Aizen first appeared in his life. Byakuya remembers it well, as if it were yesterday, though it has been hundreds of years since then.

He had been with his parents visiting the then sixth-squad captain, a man whose name and face are unimportant to him after all these years. The visit had ended early with his parents opting to take the scenic route home instead of their usual, direct path. They had been walking by a small pond near the household when Byakuya's feet stilled at the sight of a slightly older boy resting under a tree by the quaint waterside. His parents walked on, not noticing he had stopped to stare at the stranger. With his beautiful, brown hair and handsome features, the boy immediately captured Byakuya's attention, though even without these things, he would still have been remarkable to the Kuchiki noble. The look of complete and utter peace on the boy's relaxed face was something completely foreign to him. Byakuya had never seen someone look so tranquil before. All the members of his family, though powerful, were always on their guard, and their faces showed it. The members of the Gotei 13 and others he had met around were usually frowning or appeared indifferent. He had never found anyone simply resting like this, their guard completely down.

His moment of stillness seemed to stretch on forever, and he felt unable to tear his eyes away from the utterly tranquil and lovely form of the stranger. Although he could have stayed watching, a harsh word from his father broke his trance and he moved on.

Later in his life, regret settles in, for though he has known Aizen for hundreds of years and been his lover for most this time, he has never seen him look quite as peaceful as he did on that day.

They say memories are grains of sand that slip through the fingers, but for Byakuya this is a stone, one that will forever remain in his palm.

O

o

O

Sorry for the shortness! I will try to make the next Ai/Bya longer. And please excuse any errors, I am tired.

Thanks for reading!


	3. Blameless AiBya

**Pairing:**Aizen/Byakuya (if you squint)

**Theme:**bankai at bleach15 LJ and at bleachcontest LJ

**Rating:**PG-13 / Death

**Disclamer:**I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from this story.

**Blameless**

**By: Naraku's Dark Soul**

"It is over now," Aizen says, immaculate appearance contrary to the carnage all around him. His uniform doesn't have so much as a wrinkle in the fabric. His hands are spotless, free of blame. There is not so much as a drop of blood on his entire body. Even his zanpakutou is faultless, the metal shining in the moonlight.

"No. I am still here." A pause, the sound of senbonzakura being drawn from its sheath. 

"Inconsequential," Aizen responds, shrugging. He sheaths his naked blade, his smile never faltering.

"Is it?" Byakuya's reply is quick, too quick. His hand on the hilt of his zanpakutou twitches, and he can feel the familiar ache of exhaustion building deep inside. _I've been here, done this, before. _

Aizen steps toward him, his feet never touching the pools of blood surrounding them. "Yes. You have always been mine," he whispers, his mouth near Byakuya's ear, his finger trailing down Byakuya's chest. "Kudakero, Kyouka Suigetsu."

The words cut Byakuya deep, and something inside of him breaks, shattering into the million pieces of his bankai. He looks down and realizes that he is only holding the hilt of his sword; the blade is gone, fragments buried deep in the surrounding bodies. His eyes widen as he sees his bloody, traitorous hands and red-stained uniform. The only clean thing touching him is Aizen's finger as it draws circles in the fabric over his heart. 

He has killed them all. Each one felled by the zanpakutou he calls his own. And all without him knowing it. In his mind, he has been fighting Aizen, has returned to fight him again.

The hand holding his zanpakutou opens, and the weapon clatters to the ground, soon followed by its master. 

All the while, the faultless God smiles. He smiles and smiles.


	4. Nerves of Steel ByaRukia

**Pairing:** Byakuya/Rukia

**Rating/Warning:** R / Sex

**Nerves of Steel**

**By: Naraku's Dark Soul**

Rukia's body is soft against his, her flesh yielding, pliant in his hands. It makes it all the more difficult for him to remain still. He wants nothing more than to take her hard, to shove his aching need deep inside her until she screams his name. But he is Kuchiki and has nerves of steel. So, he waits. He waits for her tender caresses to become more desperate, waits for his name to fall from breathless lips.

A stroke here, a pinch there and finally it comes.

_Byakuya._

He lifts her leg up, baring her shamefully engorged sex to his hungry eyes, and buries himself inside.

She is tight around him, her sweet, lilting voice filling the room as he pushes himself in and out of her trembling body. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoes off ornately decorated walls as he grips her hips and increases his pace. If he were a lesser man, he might have come by now with the surging tide of lust she inspires in him--but he is Kuchiki and has nerves of steel. So, he remains in control. She must come first, break under the sinful weight of his body on her back, his name on her lips as she gives herself over to wicked pleasure.

Minutes pass, until finally--with a shudder--she comes and their union is complete, her back bowing and his name falling from heated lips as she takes all he has to give.


	5. Times of Gain and Loss AiBya

**Pairing: **Aizen/Byakuya, mentions of Byakuya/Hisana, implied Byakuya/Rukia

**Theme: **Obsession at bleachedblackk at LJ

**Rating: R** / Sex

**Notes:** speedfic for alpha2nd2006 at LJ; unbetaed

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from this story.

**Times of Gain and Loss**

The feeling was unbearable. Aizen had been plagued with it ever since he first laid eyes on the man. They had both been a lot younger then, so it had not been exactly the same. However, the twisted regard which he had felt for the other man with mutated over time, becoming more powerful, more _commanding_. He wanted so badly to possess this younger man, to own him, _break_ him, watch his dispassionate features twist in pain and pleasure. It got to the point he could think of almost nothing else.

Naturally, he was very good at hiding his feelings. He became close to Byakuya. He was always polite, never let his mask slip or let his true nature or intentions be revealed. During that time he began to see a return on his investment. Little signs which would have bypassed an ordinary person did not escape his careful eye. Aizen was nothing if not a scholar of human character, after all.

They became lovers, and to his great satisfaction each of his perverse fantasies was acted out. It seemed the younger man also knew something of the pleasures that could be found within pain. Aizen was delighted to teach him the rest. He took things slow, did not rush. Time was insignificant to those with long lifespans. He had forever to dominate his partner, forever to bask in the glory of his conquest. Byakuya was a good pet, as Aizen had always known he would be. Time passed. Glorious, hedonistic time.

Gradually, Aizen began to sense a change in the other man. It was subtle at first, manifesting in small defiances he would normally have overlooked. However, as Byakuya's boldness became more obvious, it was impossible to ignore. Naturally, he granted the other man his due punishment. For this Aizen was rewarded only with sullen silence or aloof disregard--a complete degeneration into previous, unacceptable behavior.

Slowly, Aizen's feelings twisted into hatred. Not for Byakuya, but for the one who was changing him, the third wheel, Hisana. Although Byakuya tried to conceal it, Aizen always knew there was another. His pet could never hide anything from him.

When Byakuya declared his wish to end the relationship, Aizen was nothing if not courteous. He knew Byakuya's heart was hardened to him, knew the relationship was impossible to salvage at that time. The two were married and Aizen raised no objections. He got his revenge in other ways. When Byakuya came to him after Hisana's oh-so-_unfortunate_ death, he was happy to help the other man, happy to take back what was so rightfully his. Time passed. Glorious, hedonistic time.

Eventually, Byakuya realized the truth behind Hisana's death. Naturally, this was the real end of their relationship. It was an unfortunate slip of Aizen's mask in a moment of despicable passion, his fall from infallibility. His only saving grace was that Byakuya could prove none of his claims. He made sure of that. Indeed, Byakuya had never even received an admission of his guilt.

Years and insignificant years later, Aizen stood a conqueror over Rukia's body, ready to take the Hougyoku as his own. Triumph, at last. Both the Hougyoku and Byakuya would be his.

Afterwards, Byakuya stood in his way. _Oh, _how he hated Rukia for it. It might not have shown but in his careless disregard for her life, but was acutely felt. Aizen had despised her from the moment she became close to Byakuya and took his rightful place at the other man's side. Planning her execution gave him great joy. All the better there was legitimate reason for it in his mind. Leaving without killing her was hard, but he did it with the future in mind.

Aizen sat in Las Noches upon his throne for the first time knowing that one day Byakuya would be his again. Once all his dreams come to fruition, everything will be as it should.


	6. Conquest SzayYyl

**Pairing: **Szayel Aporro Grantz/Il Forte Grantz

**Rating: **R / Sex

**Notes: **For a request on a meme at LJ. First solo foray into Grantzcest.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from this story.

**Conquest**

The feeling of the hot, wet mouth on his cock was almost more than he could bear--especially considering whom it belonged to. One gloved hand threaded through blonde strands, Szayel shuddered as Il Forte took him deep into his throat.

It had started out a game to the Espada, a battle of wills. What would his ignoble, worthless brother do when backed into a corner? This thought was entertained for a short while before Szayel discovered his sibling's weakness. Once the Espada had _that_ to hold over the older man his victory was assured, although not quite in the way he had previously imagined.

They had never been close in life, not as Hollow nor as Arrancar. Or so Szayel had thought. Once it became clear the thick veneer of distain Il Forte displayed was as illusory as Aizen's benevolent smile, Szayel was more than happy to take advantage of him. Naturally, he viewed his brother as nothing more than an object, a convenient solution to an eternal problem, but he was exceptional at hiding his true feelings.

It had not been easy to convince the ever-distrustful Il Forte of his supposed affection. Il Forte _knew_ him, really knew him the way no other being in existence could claim to. Still, Szayel eventually overcame his sibling's doubts. It was no surprise; Szayel had always known he would come out the victor. Il Forte did not possess his keen intuition, substantial intellect, or his superb grasp of the art of deception, after all. He was doomed to fall under Szayel's influence. The fact that it took so long was simply from a lack of interest on Szayel's part.

With Il Forte sucking his cock, he could see what he had been missing. It was a wonder it had taken him so long to figure it out. Still, Szayel supposed every genius must have an occasional lapse in clarity. Not everyone could be as faultless as the ruler of Hueco Mundo. That pinnacle of perfection was hard to attain, though Szayel knew he came close.

Mouth quirking into a smirk, Szayel relished the feeling of the conquered man's mouth and eager tongue as he worked to please. A few more strokes of the talented muscle had Szayel coming hard into the other man's mouth, groaning and pulling blonde hair tight as the Fraccion took all he had to give.

Coming down from his high took longer than normal, and Szayel was forced to consider perhaps Il Forte _did _have some use after all. The thought stripped him of his slack jawed-expression, returning his smirk to its rightful place.


	7. Granzcest Music Meme Drabbles

**Pairing: **Szayel Aporro Grantz/Il Forte Grantz

**Rating: **R

**Notes: **5 Grantzcest drabbles. Written for the music meme. Each inspired by and written solely during a single song.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from this story.

.

_**Dexter**_** - 1x11 Ending**

Il Forte's head snapped to the side as the harsh sound of a slap echoed throughout the laboratory.

The Numeros thought he could get away with it. He thought Szayel would never notice the small mark on the back of his neck. He should have remembered Szayel was first and foremost a scientist, and that due to this, would be more observant than most.

"I do not find it pleasing to share my possessions with others, _dear_ brother." Il Forte had no response, did not even have the grace to look ashamed for his actions. Szayel frowned, mouth tightened into a grimace as he considered all the punishments he could inflict on his older brother.

.

**Dir en Grey - Glass Skin**

Szayel's eyes remained glued to the monitor long after it went dark.

Despite Il Forte being a mere Numeros, he had not believed this eventuality would come to pass. At least, not by the hands of a lowly Shinigami. If anything, Szayel had imagined it would be himself who killed Il Forte, as it had been for his brother's first death.

He had been sure he would go too far with an experiment one day. Playing with fire was dangerous; Il Forte had known that from past experience. Yet despite everything, it had been someone else who took what so rightfully belonged to Szayel.

Hand curling into a fist, Szayel glared at the empty monitor and resolved to put his brother out of his mind. The only thing worthless Shinigami could kill was trash itself. A _real_ Arrancar could not have been touched.

.

**Alice Nine - Velvet**

Sometimes he caught Il Forte outside the walls of Las Noches. He would watch the Numeros run across the open sand like some kind of low-level Hollow, like a child. Szayel would never tell anyone, least of all his brother, but those moments that should have brought nothing but scorn actually amused him.

Il Forte caught him once. Szayel had thought his camouflage perfect, and was impressed his brother managed to see through it. It drove him to the conclusion the Numeros might not be as worthless as he had thought.

When Il Forte came to him afterwards, Szayel did not put up any resistance.

.

**HIM - Venus Doom**

At first, Szayel was less than thrilled. He had been happy to be an Arrancar while his brother remained a Hollow. It was just another way to prove his superiority to the other man. Szayel ate it up; let it all go to his head. In death, he had managed to crawl out of his sibling's shadow. He was delighted to repay Il Forte the indifference and cruelty he had been shown in life. Nothing could have pleased him more.

Or so he thought.

As he gradually came to realize he had been chasing his lost humanity, his feelings began to change. While this did not make him any less arrogant in his position, it did make him see his brother in a new light. He had no qualms about making his desire known either, and was gratified to see it returned.

Il Forte was adept in this as he was with nothing else, yet Szayel never failed to see the irony of the brother who had been so cold to him in life becoming exactly the opposite in death. It was further proof their positions had indeed been reversed.

.

**Atreyu - We Stand Up**

The lines of blood trickling down Il Forte's chest and neck did nothing but enhance his beauty. Szayel loved these moments, loved his hands covered in his brother's blood.

"You missed a spot." Szayel started out of his momentary distraction and laughed. He brought his scalpel to bear against Il Forte's skin and pressed down, a line of red quickly welling up and spreading down to join the others.

"So kind of you to remind me." he quipped, bending over to get a closer look at his handiwork; it tasted as good as it looked.


	8. The Fine Art of Disobedience AiBya

**Pairing: **Aizen/Byakuya

**Rating/Warning: **R // Masturbation, light blood play, voyeurism, dark themes

**The Fine Art of Disobedience**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

"We agreed you would not follow me here." Aizen's voice was warm, the underlying threat obvious.

"I go where I please," Byakuya replied, halting in the doorway as Aizen seated himself on his overlarge, white sofa. The room was as colorless as the furniture, as sterile as the rest of the vile place. It all reminded him of the twelfth division with its equally repulsive captain. With an audible sniff, Byakuya stepped inside and allowed the door to close behind him.

Aizen's only reply was to chuckle as he leaned back against the plush sofa cushions.

Eyes narrowed, Byakuya remained silent. He knew Aizen's good graces only went so far, but he had yet to find the other man's limits and didn't mind either way. There really wasn't much he _did_ care about these days. Aizen had taken everything from him even as he had given Byakuya anything he could ever have desired. The man was the epitome of the double-edged sword, good and evil, sadism and compassion irrevocably intertwined within his twisted psyche.

Not that Byakuya minded. Aizen had awoken something in him, a long-slumbering, hardly noticed part of himself he had never really thought about before. Now that this fierce desire had been stirred, it could never be put to sleep again. Byakuya neither wanted nor needed this craving, this _yearning_, to end. If it did he might start to think about other things, about the fall of Soul Society, about the fact he was merely one of a handful of surviving Shinigami, and he did not want that. It was far better to lose himself in the sinful pleasures Aizen offered than live in a perpetual state of hatred and hopelessness for the rest of his life.

Blinking several times to clear his thoughts, Byakuya stepped forward, close to Aizen, who only smiled.

"I assume you went against my wishes for a reason, Byakuya." Aizen's gaze was impassive as he leaned his head against his hand, his elbow perched on the arm of the sofa. Again, Byakuya said nothing, instead choosing to take the last few steps into the center of the room, facing Aizen.

"Nothing to say? Then strip." After a moment's hesitation, Byakuya obeyed, removing one article of clothing after another and letting them all fall to the floor. Exposed, Byakuya fought down the urge to shiver under the other man's piercing gaze. No one else would have noticed this minor weakness in the stoic former noble, but Aizen always did. "Sit. Spread your legs," he said, his smile widening almost imperceptibly.

Byakuya made a move to sit on the sofa, but Aizen stopped him with a glance. "The floor, Byakuya."

Months ago, he would have hesitated; now, he simply sank onto the cold ground at Aizen's feet. What use was there in resisting? The harsh blows Aizen had dealt to Soul Society had also affected him, cracking his formidable pride. The shattering of such came later, also by Aizen's iron will. Thoughts of all the other man had done to him, of warm hands on his body, of the acid tongue that whispered despicable, sweet lies made Byakuya shudder. He hoped Aizen thought it was simply because of the cool stone against his bare flesh, but one look at the other man told him otherwise. The smirk was barely there, but Byakuya recognized it; Aizen knew he had Byakuya right where he wanted him.

"Now, touch yourself," Aizen commanded as Byakuya settled in position, his legs bent at the knees as he leaned back on his elbows. He raised his hand and complied without a word. In the past, he might have subtly disobeyed, playing with his knee or some other innocuous part of his body. Not anymore. His hand trailed down his chest, pausing to tweak one of his nipples, before sliding it down his abdomen to wrap around his hard cock. He did not hesitate in pleasuring himself, any lingering vestige of pride having long gone. Aizen watched him with those simultaneously kind and malicious eyes. Although he betrayed no signs of it, Byakuya knew the other man was enjoying himself. After all, it was Aizen who had pursued him, Aizen who had spared him for this purpose, and Aizen who had broken him to the point he enjoyed it as well.

"Yes, like that," Aizen stipulated, as Byakuya played with the head of his cock, fingers massaging the slit. Byakuya suppressed a moan at the feeling of his fingers on himself accompanied by the other man's honeyed voice sliding down his spine. He pumped himself with his fist, his hand sliding smoothly up and down his dick again and again. It was good, but so much better if Aizen would simply _touch _him, fuck him. At this thought, Byakuya leaned back on the cold stone, his other hand going for his ass. He slid one finger in and could not hold back a moan this time. But it was still too little. Byakuya added one, two more fingers and pumped his hands in time with each other. The pain of each dry intrusion was outweighed by the pleasure he took in degrading himself this way in front of the other man.

"You look good like this, Byakuya." He almost missed Aizen's words. He was sweating, nipples erect as he writhed against his hands. The patented Kuchiki control only went so far; he was nearing his breaking point.

"Come." An innocuous demand like most others, but something snapped at this. His rebelliousness came back, directed in a new way.

"Touch me," he sighed, speaking for the second time since entering Aizen's chambers. He was trembling from the effort of holding himself back, but something in him would not let him completely submit. That part of him that had atrophied to the point of uselessness flared to life, redirecting itself and demanding his attention. "I want you to…"

He never saw the hand that slapped him. His head swung to the side so hard his vision went white for a moment. The pain in his cheek was immediate and let him know it was more than a superficial injury. Blood seeped down his cheek from his friction burned skin and dripped onto the floor. An instant later and Aizen was there, hands clutching Byakuya's head. He smirked and leaned in, his tongue sliding up Byakuya's jaw, his mouth then covering the fresh wound.

"Come for me, Byakuya." Aizen fisted a hand in his hair and Byakuya sucked in a breath, unable to let it out, as he came all over himself.


	9. Reciprocity ChadIchi

**Pairing: **Chad/Ichigo

**Rating/Warning: **G // none

**Notes:** Written for round 1 of a contest. First _and _last time writing this pairing.

**Reciprocity**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

It wasn't supposed to end up like this. _Although_, Ichigo reflected, _it could have been a lot worse._ Rukia, Renji, Ishida, and even the Arrancar who had helped him out had all escaped after Orihime's miraculous rescue. It was only he and Chad who had been caught, a critical error on his part, Chad simply outclassed.

The room they had been imprisoned in was small and dark with no windows to observe the false sunlight. Ichigo had no idea how long they had been there. It seemed like forever, but he knew it was likely only a day or two. He and Chad had fought with every breath trying to break out of their prison, but to no avail. Zangetsu had been taken, and Chad's powers were ineffective against the unforgiving walls. Through the long hours, Ichigo had begun to suspect there was more to the walls than met the eye. Things made more sense after that. If their enemies had no reason to fear them escaping, it would not make any difference if they were kept together or alone.

Beside him Chad shifted, his overlarge hand brushing against Ichigo's side. The movement was enough to jolt him from his daze. Pivoting on his arm, Ichigo rolled to stare at the opposite wall. Although the view was the same, he was spared Chad's searching gaze. The other man did not say much, but he did not need to. His gaze cut Ichigo each time it was directed at him. It wasn't that it was particularly malicious--quite the opposite--but that it made the guilt floating in Ichigo's veins solidify and clamp tightly around his heart.

He might have helped the others escape, but he had let Chad down. It was something he never thought would happen. He was supposed to be Chad's strength, his pair of fists. Instead, he had been too weak to prevent Chad and himself from being captured. _Inexcusable_, his mind supplied. It was absolutely inexcusable.

Trying not to sigh and make his thoughts known--even though they were likely already obvious--Ichigo closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry," Chad said, soft, low voice cutting off Ichigo's apology before he had a chance to formulate the words. Ichigo's breath went out in a rush and he opened his eyes. Of all the things the other man could have said, this was the most unexpected. Didn't Chad realize it was all Ichigo's fault? Didn't he rightfully blame Ichigo for everything?

"It's not your fault, Chad," Ichigo replied, fists clenched. _It's mine._

Chad's hand was against his back again, this time on purpose. Ichigo did not pull away, but it was some minutes before he relaxed and leaned into the touch. Even more time passed before he allowed his eyes to close, Chad's other arm coming to encircle his frame.

Ichigo's guilt tore loose in pieces, floating away with each exhalation. Whatever happened next, they were in it together.


	10. Always and Forever AaronUki

**Pairing: **Aaroniero/Ukitake

**Rating/Warnings: **R // HJ, dark themes

**Notes:** Written for a prompt at the newest kink meme at LJ. One of my fave pairings now.

**Always and Forever**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Aaroniero licked his lips as he trailed a gloved hand down the front of the other man's uniform. "Just like old times, isn't it?"

Ukitake offered no reply, his head turned to the side and eyes closed.

"Those nights before Miyako were great…" Aaroniero whispered, leaning in to kiss Ukitake's neck, the perfect imitation of an act performed thousands of times before. The Shinigami's flinch was not lost on him as he trailed more kisses downward, hands parting the top of Ukitake's shihakushou. Rather than waste time maneuvering the fabric over the other man's outstretched, bound arms, Aaroniero tore it loose and let it drop to the ground. Ukitake's bare chest was everything his stolen memories suggested it would be, taut skin stretched over well-defined muscles. "…but not as good as those during."

This too provoked no response, but by the hitch in Ukitake's breath Aaroniero could tell he was getting somewhere. Holding back his laughter, Aaroniero leaned in once more, this time to Ukitake's chest. The other man's flesh tasted as good as it looked and he found himself wanting to eat it all up. But no, no. _Later_, Aaroniero reminded himself. _Not finished playing_.

"Do ya think she knew?" he asked, mouth leaving Ukitake's nipple for a brief second.

"Yes." The reply was so soft he almost missed it. Eyes closed as he grinned and laughed, Aaroniero pulled back.

"Hey now, I wasn't talkin' about the good times we all shared _together_," he said, cupping Ukitake's face with one hand. "Although, those were fun too." It required no effort to turn the Shinigami's head toward his own, Ukitake resisting only when Aaroniero's intentions became clear.

Although the kiss was one-sided, Aaroniero enjoyed it. Things were always more fun with a resistant partner. Even better should the other person become aroused against his or her will. "I meant those times we met out in Rukongai. Don't ya ever wonder if she knew about those?" Aaroniero licked his way down Ukitake's chest, stopping near the bulge in the other man's hakama. _Yes, there it is_, he mentally congratulated himself.

"I don't know." The words were softer this time, if that was even possible. Aaroniero palmed the other man's quickly hardening cock through his hakama, Ukitake tensing at the sudden friction.

"Eh? Can't hear ya. Maybe if you speak a little _louder_…" He could feel the tremors running through Ukitake's body, could feel him subtly pulling back.

"It doesn't matter. You are not Kaien." Aaroniero frowned. This would not do. _Spoiling things so early!_

"Pretty mean of ya, _Ukitake_. Especially when your body recognizes me so easily," he said, squeezing the Shinigami's erection for emphasis.

"It doesn't matter," Ukitake repeated, shifting to the side. "None of this matters." The Shinigami's eyes were open now. Aaroniero met them, basking in the other man's anger.

"No? I think it does, especially to Miyako," he said, grinning as he undid the tie on Ukitake's hakama and helped the garment to the floor. The other man's fundoshi soon followed. Aaroniero did not waste any time, making good use of his Aizen-given _hand_. His other, false hand was busy pulling Ukitake closer. "Whaddaya say? Want me to ask her? I'm sure she'll tell you," he whispered against the other man's lips.

"That won't be necessary." Exhibiting an admirable amount of restraint, Ukitake remained still and allowed Aaroniero to fondle him. Characteristic grin in place, Aaroniero ruffled his own hair.

"If ya say so, Ukitake. But knowing her, I'm sure she'd _love_ to speak to you." Ukitake's lips were just as deliciously resistant the second time. Aaroniero took things slow, savoring the taste as he brought the other man closer to climax. "I mean, it wasn't exactly like we had her permission and all…" Ukitake groaned, the sound pushing past clenched teeth. Aaroniero inhaled the scent of the other man's arousal, pulling off his left glove with his teeth as he kept up the pace with his right hand.

"Say, you don't think she's mad, do you?" His query was ignored, Ukitake's pelvis undulating with each movement of Aaroniero's hand. Ukitake did not appear to notice the tentacles wrapping themselves around his neck. He was sweating, breaths heaving in and out as his composure crumbled.

"I'd hate for her to be _mad_. You sure we shouldn't ask her?" Aaroniero's tentacles held Ukitake in place as the bindings around his arms dissolved, soaking up his reiatsu. Ukitake's orgasm came a second later, his hands clawing at Aaroniero's tentacles. _Should be thankful. He would have fallen_, Aaroniero's mind supplied.

"She's in here, you know. With me. We're always together." He leaned in for one more kiss, this one reluctantly returned. "Don't you wanna join us, Ukitake?" Aaroniero asked, pulling back enough for the other man to answer.

He did not see the kido coming. One second he was gloating, sure of his victory. The next he was on his back, left arm stinging where it had been burned.

"No, no I don't," Ukitake's swift reply was contrary to the tears brimming in his eyes. Then he was gone, a blur of white interrupting the dark contours of the room.

Aaroniero laughed. He laughed and laughed.

_Next time, don't play with the food so much_, he thought to himself, the sound dying abruptly in his throat as he sat up and let his façade melt away.


	11. According to Plan SzayTes

**Pairings: **Szayel Aporro/Tesla, implied Nnoitra/Tesla and Nnoitra Szayel Aporro

**Rating/Warnings: **R // Oral, voyeurism, minor blood play

**Notes:** Speedfic. Written for a prompt at the newest kink meme at LJ.

**According to Plan**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Szayel wasn't sure what turned him on more, the warm tongue circling his cock, or the pair of angry eyes observing him from across the room. Groaning and fisting a hand in Tesla's hair, Szayel watched with half-lidded eyes for Nnoitra's reaction. He was not disappointed. Szayel imagined he could hear the Quinta's teeth grinding from the other side of the room as the other man's fingers twitched in Santa Teresa's direction.

Unlike Szayel, Nnoitra had never been very good at hiding his emotions.

"Mmm…I see now why you chose this one as your Fraccion," he said, panting as Tesla took him deep into his throat. Nnoitra's fingers clenched into a fist at his side and Szayel smirked. "Did he have to audition, or could it be you simply--" The Quinta was on him in a flash, Santa Teresa pressed dangerously close to Szayel's throat.

"Don't fuck with me, _Octava_," Nnoitra sneered, leaning in close and meeting Szayel's unflinching gaze. "I ain't got time to play your games." Tesla continued pleasuring Szayel as if nothing had happened. This and Nnoitra's close proximity made Szayel feel light-headed. He decided to press his luck.

"My, my, such harsh words. And here I was simply trying to pay you a _compliment_. He is _such_ a well-trained plaything, after all," Szayel said, running one gloved finger across Santa Teresa's edge before taking the pink-tinged digit into his mouth and sucking the blood off. Tesla chose that moment to redouble his efforts and Szayel let out an involuntary groan, eyelids fluttering.

Eye narrowed, Nnoitra shoved his zanpakutou into the wall, bringing the edge so close to Szayel's throat a line of red appeared. The pain merely heightened Szayel's pleasure, but it wasn't until Nnoitra gripped his hand and pulled him forward that he actually came, back bowing as he made his satisfaction known.

"Tesla. _Get out," _Nnoitra's commanded a moment later, voice cutting through Szayel's afterglow. He frowned as the Fraccion mumbled something in the affirmative and hastily made his exit.

Unlike Szayel, Nnoitra had never been very good at hiding his intentions.

Santa Teresa was removed with one hand, Nnoitra using his other to twist Szayel around and pin him against the wall. Szayel's chuckle was cut off midway as the other man's hand tightened around his neck. A second later and Nnoitra's mouth was right beside his ear. "This shit'd better work, or--"

"Or?" Szayel queried, cutting him off. He could read the other man well. It was why he had set this whole thing up when Nnoitra had come asking for a favor--not that the thought had been the Quinta's own either. No, Szayel had been working on him for weeks beforehand, dropping little suggestions here and there. Nnoitra had eventually given in. Judging by the hardness digging into his back, Szayel knew he would get just what he wanted this time too.

For a moment things seemed to be going to plan, but then Nnoitra spun away and stalked off in the direction Tesla had gone. Szayel, ever patient, stood in the stillness of his laboratory planning his next move. He would achieve his goal soon, he could feel it.


	12. Daijoubu IshiHime

**Pairing:** Ishida/Orihime

**Rating/Warnings: **PG // character death

**Summary:** Everything is fine - a series of vignettes on life after Kurosaki.

**Notes:** Written for round 2 of a contest.

**Daijoubu**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Ishida wanted to hold her. But then, he nearly always did.

Suppressing the impulse, he instead reached for Orihime's hand, intent on comforting her. Her skin was clammy to the touch, but he didn't let go. Swallowing, Orihime turned and offered him a watery smile. Her eyes were puffy from crying, he noticed. Not that anyone could blame her. He had done a little bit himself, but never where anyone could have seen him.

Fingers clasped around his hand, Orihime's tears began anew.

It occurred to him she was crying for both of them. Crying for Kurosaki because he was dead, and for his sake because his pride would never suffer him shedding tears in public.

He squeezed her hand tighter, offering a small, reassuring smile of his own in lieu of any words of comfort. Nothing he could have said would make any difference.

The silence stretched on for some time before Chad finally cleared his throat, reminding Ishida there were more than two people standing over Kurosaki's freshly covered grave. It had been too easy to forget with Orihime's fingers wrapped around his own.

---

Butterflies were incredibly hard to catch, Ishida realized. Not to mention _trying_ to catch them made him look like an idiot. Yet he kept on, waving the net in circles and running all over the place. It would have been infinitely easier if he had used hirenkyaku, but his actual goal was not to catch the insects. It was enough he was chasing them.

One particularly fast butterfly zipped around his head several times before flying just out of reach, taunting him. Orihime's accompanying laughter was music to his ears.

---

She still blamed herself, he knew.

He would wake up some nights to find Orihime sitting by the window staring at the stars. He would ask her what was wrong and she would inevitably, invariably smile and say she was fine, that everything was alright.

Ishida knew it wasn't, that it hadn't been since Kurosaki's death and never would be again. Still, when the predictable would happen and she would come and curl her body around his, he would almost believe the lie.

"_Everything is okay."_

"_I know."_


	13. Penny for Your Thoughts SzayHime

**Characters: **Szayel Aporro, Orihime

**Rating/Warnings: **PG // none

**Notes:** Old fic. I just realized I hadn't posted this here.

**Penny for Your Thoughts**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Smirking, Szayel studied the scalpel in his hand, light gleaming off the sharp blade. At the sound of protest from his _guest_, he turned to look at the woman. She had been quiet up until this point, but Szayel could tell she was worried, scared even. He did not blame her. Had she been anyone else, there would have been due cause for this. However, she was under Aizen's protection, and much as he might wish to make full use of her, he had only been given permission to do a noninvasive analysis. Determining the exact nature of her powers was something he was--had been--looking forward to, regardless of Aizen's request.

Placing the scalpel back in its designated space on his tray of tools, Szayel smiled at the woman. "If I do not take proper care of my instruments, they will be of no use to me when I _do_ need them," he said, fingers moving over to grasp a syringe out of the same tray. It was whole, no cracks or other aberrations to prevent it from being useful.

"Y-yes…" The woman's response was slow in coming, her face red as if she had been caught doing something illicit. Still smiling, Szayel chose to ignore her discomfort as he filled the syringe with his specially prepared spectral parasites. These were a modified version of the original, designed not only to heal damage and observe the subject's reiatsu and actions, but to record his or her thoughts as well. Szayel had had a recent breakthrough that made the last possible, but the results were untested as of yet. Orihime would be his guinea pig, the first to receive this advanced version of the bugs. Not that he had told Aizen this. Oh no, Szayel put a much higher value on his life than that.

After making sure there were no air bubbles and that the woman's skin was clean, Szayel injected her with his newest invention. Even though there could be no escape with her arms and legs strapped down to his laboratory table, she stiffened as the needle broke her skin, her eyes closed and her hands balled into fists.

Szayel was not surprised at her renewed discomfort. He had heard from a few of his test subjects that the sensation of the spectral parasites racing through their bodies for the first time had been unpleasant. The comfort of his specimens was hardly something the scientist cared about, but he made note of her reaction nonetheless. As she was the first to receive these advanced spectral parasites, he would document _everything_.

It only took a few moments for the woman to relax, head drooping to the side as if she had fallen asleep. After disposing of the needle and placing the used syringe in the appropriate sanitary bin, Szayel returned to check her vitals. Everything appeared to be normal, her pulse, respiratory rate, and reiatsu all at previously documented levels. His sensors indicated that she was in a deep REM sleep, and would likely be for some time.

Again, Szayel was not surprised. It would take quite a while for the parasites to synchronize with the host body; something he had observed in most other cases. Usually it took several hours for them to align with the synapses in the host's brain. He imagined this new breed would take even longer as per its special capability. If everything went as planned, he could expect to see results within the day. Szayel's lips curled into a slight smile and he snapped his fingers, summoning one of his faithful Fraccion.

"Monitor her vitals. If anything changes from the norm, come see me immediately." His subordinate nodded its assent and Szayel turned heel, walking quickly away. He had far better things to do than to tend to the girl while she slept. If anything went truly wrong, his Fraccion would notify him. The cameras and sensors in the lab would catch the rest.


	14. To Wait, or Not to Wait ShinjiHiyori

**Pairing:** Shinji/Hiyori

**Rating/Warnings: **PG-13 // language

**Summary:** Shinji is resolute in his stance. Hiyori is not so sure he should be.

**Notes:** Written for round 3 of a contest.

**To Wait, or Not to Wait**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

The day was cloudless, waves of heat beating against Shinji's skin and making him feel miserable. He had already sparred with several of the other Vaizard; there really was nothing left to do. The heat was making him lazy, far too much so to go out and do much of anything else.

Shinji rolled over onto his other side, his drooping head propped up by an arm. None of the others were doing much either. He yawned. Maybe it was time for a nap, although he doubted he would be allowed to take one.

Before Shinji could so much as close his eyes, a blow to the back of his head had him pressed face first into the floor. This was followed by the predictable weight settling directly where the blow had fallen.

"What tha hell do you think you're doing just laying there, huh?" Shinji had known who it was before Hiyori even spoke. He _always_ knew when she was coming, but seldom chose to stop her antics.

Fighting to pry his face from the floorboards, he let out a muffled, indignant grunt. When she finally leaped off, he sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"What the hell did you do that for?" he asked, running his fingers over the knot that was already starting to swell. Hiyori cursed and kicked him in the knee, completely disregarding his cry of pain.

"You know why, idiot," she exclaimed, reaching for her zanpakutou.

Shinji could tell things were becoming serious. He sighed and sat up, closing his eyes.

"You know why we can't--," he started, but was interrupted by having to dodge a sandal that came flying his way. The second soon followed, forcing Shinji to stand. His reaction time had improved a great deal since Aizen's betrayal. This seemed to do nothing but piss Hiyori off, which in turn, delighted Shinji.

"I told ya already, we gotta wait," he said, toothy grin sliding into place. The topic may have been a sensitive and over-debated one, but he never got tired of Hiyori's antics. He would never tell her that, though. She'd take it as an insult; probably double-up on her efforts and manage to _actually_ annoy him one day.

"Yeah? An' we have. An' Aizen still ain't come here." It was pointless to argue--they would never see eye to eye on the matter--so he did the next best thing.

"What? A little more waiting isn't gonna hurt. It's not like you're getting any shorter cuz of it or anything," he said, shrugging and throwing up his hands.

Her reaction was immediate and predictable. He loved every second of the fight that ensued. It not only livened up his afternoon, but also reminded him exactly what he was fighting for. Revenge, certainly, but then, there was also _Hiyori_. And maybe, just maybe he'd be able to tell her that someday--ideally over Aizen's corpse.


	15. Assumptions ByaRen

**Pairing:** Byakuya/Renji

**Rating/Warnings: **PG

**Summary:** Byakuya receives a late night surprise visitor.

**Notes:** Written for round 4 of a (now dead) contest. I'm well aware of its subpar quality :(

**Assumptions  
**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

It had been a very long day. Byakuya was tired, but still maintained his slow, graceful gait as he made his way home. To act otherwise would be unseemly; only the weak gave in to petty exhaustion.

His feet steady on the moonlit, solitary path, the Kuchiki heir finally arrived at his residence. It was quiet as he stepped inside, Rukia and the majority of the servants obviously sleeping. The hallway to his room was dark but for a single lantern outside. He guessed Rukia had left it burning just for him. His mouth twitched upward in a half-realized smile as he stooped to extinguish the light.

After moving inside and sliding the door shut, he undressed, wanting nothing more than to collapse on his futon, but knowing it was improper to do so while still in his daywear. Last to go was his kenseikan. He removed them with practiced ease and set them down near his priceless scarf.

Suppressing a yawn, Byakuya donned his sleepwear and slipped into bed.

He was almost asleep when he sensed someone coming towards his room. Byakuya lay still, knowing the person was probably just passing by. It would be improper of anyone to interrupt him unless it was something pressing.

The knock took him by surprise. He sat up, tying his sleepwear tighter about himself.

"Yes," he called, his voice even and hard as he slid out of bed.

Byakuya was even more surprised by the door sliding open. It certainly had to be something important for this kind of impertinence.

Renji's form stumbling in from the hall was, perhaps, the greatest surprise of all.

"Taichou, I--" he began, but Byakuya cut him off.

"Renji. What are you doing here?" The disapproval in Byakuya's voice was palpable. Renji turned a little red and fell silent for a moment, not standing from where he had been crouched.

"I just…I needed ta ask you something." He seemed subdued, almost miserable. That meant it could be only be about one thing, a matter he had thought finished long ago. Byakuya's expression did not change but for the subtle hardening of his eyes.

"I thought I made myself clear about Rukia--"

"No! I mean, it's not that. Taichou, this's about you," Renji said, cutting him off and standing. Moreover, on his face, _yes_, he was most _definitely _blushing.

Byakuya's eyes widened almost imperceptibly in surprise.


	16. Unwanted Attention NnoiYyl

**Pairing:** Nnoitra/Il Forte, implied Szayel Aporro/Il Forte, Nnoitra/Tesla, and Nnoitra/Szayel Aporro

**Rating/Warnings: **R // Oral

**Summary:** Nnoitra takes out his frustration on Il Forte.

**Notes:** Sequel to _According to Plan_. My favorite quadrangle is represented here.

**Unwanted Attention  
**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Il Forte could hardly breathe around the cock in his mouth. He tried to pull back a little, but Nnoitra's hand stopped him.

"Too much for ya, eh? Well suck it th' fuck up," he snarled, shoving his dick back into Il Forte's mouth. Il Forte nearly gagged, but managed to calm himself at the last second. Motions slow and sure, he grabbed the remaining few inches of the Quinta's cock and began stroking it in time with his tongue.

Nnoitra groaned and tightened his fingers in Il Forte's hair, pumping in and out of his mouth. He was not gentle, nor had Il Forte expected him to be. Still, it was all he could do to find the time to breathe as Nnoitra increased the pace, slamming into Il Forte's mouth and down his throat so fast Il Forte could feel his flesh being rubbed raw. His hands dropped to Nnoitra's thighs and he pushed back in alarm. Il Forte had sustained countless battle wounds. He wasn't afraid of pain. But this? This was different. Il Forte didn't know how he would be able speak afterwards.

As he anticipated, Nnoitra didn't allow him to maneuver even the slightest bit away, his bony hand fisting in Il Forte's hair and dragging him back. Second after agonizing second ticked by, Il Forte's vision beginning to blur as Nnoitra took full advantage of him. Just as he felt sure he was going to pass out, Nnoitra came with a loud grunt, emptying himself into Il Forte's throat. He would have spit if he could, but Nnoitra thrust into his mouth a few more times, forcing everything down. The Quinta only pulled out when he began to soften.

"Fuckin' weakass. Dunno what the hell tha' shithead sees in ya," Nnoitra hissed, lifting Il Forte up by his mask. Il Forte was aware of the danger he was in, but he had no time to respond. He was too busy sucking in as much air as he could. It was only when Nnoitra let him drop, boneless, to the floor that the blackness began to recede. His relief was short lived, however, as a booted foot crashed down on his sternum. Il Forte wheezed out a breath, his eyes widening as his body rocked under the impact. As Nnoitra let out a stream of curses, grinding his heel into Il Forte's chest, he could hear his bones _creaking _and feel warmth spreading through his body as it resisted the inevitable.

Il Forte wrapped his hands around Nnoitra's leg and glared. This only made Nnoitra angrier. He pressed down until Il Forte felt something _snap_. Il Forte spasmed, pain lancing through his chest even as a smooth, silky voice distracted Nnoitra.

"My, but what _are_ you doing?" Il Forte shuddered, partly from the pain, but mostly because of the sudden appearance of his brother. He didn't need to see Szayel's expression to know he wasn't pleased.

Il Forte was in trouble, and he knew it. It didn't matter he hadn't wanted this, just like it wouldn't matter he had been completely outclassed--hell, _Szayel's_ reiatsu was nowhere near Nnoitra's level, much less his own.

"What's it look like, eh?" Nnoitra stepped closer to Szayel and Il Forte was left blissfully ignored. For the moment. He sat up, knowing it wouldn't last.

"I do not sully _your_ things." His brother's words may have been pleasant, but Il Forte heard the underlying threat. He stood, clutching his chest and wheezing. This…could get ugly fast and he didn't want to be around when it did. Il Forte began shuffling to the door, hoping beyond anything that the two would continue ignoring him. He was almost gone when a wave of reiatsu sent him to his knees. He grunted, holding onto the doorframe as Szayel spoke again, his glare all for Il Forte this time. "I did not say you could leave, dearest _brother_." The last was hissed as if it was the vilest of insults. Although, Il Forte supposed, to someone like Szayel it probably was.

"Ya don', eh?" Il Forte looked back just in time to see Nnoitra grab a fistful of Szayel's shirt. "Then what the fuck was tha' shit with Tesla?"

His brother remained calm as ever, smirking even as he was lifted up by his shirt. "Payment for services to be rendered, of course. I do not recall you voicing any objection to it at the time. Or am I quite mistaken, hmm?" Il Forte felt his brother's reiatsu slip away the slightest bit as Nnoitra punched him in the face. True to form, Szayel played it off as if it was nothing. And maybe to him it was, but Il Forte knew the power the Quinta held, his throbbing chest a painful reminder.

Il Forte's eyes widened as Szayel slowly licked his split lip and smiled. That was…he didn't want to see anymore. He turned away, and just in time as he heard a shuffling noise and familiar moan coupled with a muffled grunt from the Quinta. Fists clenched by his sides, Il Forte fought to stand.

Szayel's reiatsu forced him down and he lay on the floor used and forgotten, but not broken. Never broken.


	17. Just Desserts SzayGrimm

**Pairing:** Szayel Aporro/Grimmjow, implied Szayel Aporro/Ulquiorra and Grimmjow/Ulquiorra

**Rating/Warnings: **R / Oral, Manual

**Summary:** Szayel Aporro catches the Sexta in his laboratory.

**Notes:** Most of this was written in 2008. Funny how inspiration waxes and wanes, isn't it? Anyway, long overdue flashfic for Larbling from LJ and proof that I shouldn't be involved in these exchanges (this is probably so far off the mark that I don't even).

**Just Desserts**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Although he was not close enough to discern the details, Szayel Aporro knew exactly which recording was splashed across his wall of monitors. For Grimmjow to have attempted to bypass his security systems and sneak into his laboratory meant that he had to be watching _that_. The simple minded fool would not have any interest in anything else in Szayel's archives. All his other recordings had merit and, Szayel liked to think, served some purpose other than voyeuristic satisfaction.

Lips curling into a smirk, he leaned against the wall to wait. Grimmjow was distracted, one hand busy in his hakama, pumping hard, the other propped against one of the monitors. His breath came in harsh gasps as he stared at the lewd scene taking place on screen, at Ulquiorra's open mouth and Szayel's undulating pelvis.

Grimmjow obviously had not heard Szayel come in, nor did he appear to sense his presence. He was too wrapped up in self-pleasure, eyes glued to the glowing monitor inches from his face. It was a pity, as Szayel would have loved to have seen the look on Grimmjow's face. Not that the other man would have stopped what he was doing. Grimmjow never let anything get in his way when he was having a good time. Szayel simply wanted a better view. It was a fitting price for breaking into his private laboratory. At the moment, Grimmjow was acting for himself alone. If he knew someone else was watching, he would put on a better show.

As the video neared its end, Grimmjow let out a frustrated grunt and slid to the floor, one hand pumping his erection while the other wandered to grope his ass. Szayel watched as he finished himself off, his climax coming shortly after Ulquiorra's onscreen.

Grimmjow's labored breathing echoed throughout the laboratory, reaffirming Szayel's belief the other man possessed nothing but a sub-par intellect. It was obvious by his behavior Grimmjow did not expect to rouse any interest from Szayel or his Fraccion. He was so loud and careless, it was a wonder none of them had come running. Never mind most were skilled in the art of self-preservation, and the fact that Szayel had arrived first-Grimmjow could not be aware of any of this. In the end, all of Szayel's hypothesis about the Sexta Espada were proven accurate. The man was careless, proud, and ignorant beyond the point of redemption. The only inconsistency he could think of was it seemed Grimmjow's intention had been to take Ulquiorra's place and not Szayel's in his little fantasy. Naturally, Szayel was only too happy to oblige him. It did nothing but feed his ego that two higher ranking Espada wanted _him_ to take the dominant role. Not that their opinions mattered to him. The gratification came from the fact they had assumed the proper role with regard to perfection.

Szayel chuckled as he stepped forward until he could be seen by Grimmjow, the flickering light from the monitors reflecting off his glasses and hiding his eyes from view. The other man started at his presence, but quickly regained his composure, scowling at Szayel.

"I would ask if you enjoyed the show, but the proof is in the pudding as they say."

"Yeah? So fuckin' what?" Grimmjow said, as he tucked his dick back into his hakama. Szayel smirked at this outburst but said nothing, choosing instead to activate one of his security measures. Swiftly and silently, an odorless, colorless gas descended on the room. It was a fast-acting weakening agent designed to make specimens more pliable. Of course, Szayel was immune to the effects.

If Grimmjow thought he was getting away without punishment for invading Szayel's lab, he was sadly mistaken. It was well within Szayel's rights to _defend_ himself against intruders; Grimmjow had given up all of his privileges as soon as he set one trespassing foot on Szayel's property. With a flick of one wrist, Szayel turned off the video feed, causing all the monitors to go dark. The room was obscured by shadow, the only remaining light a diffuse glow emanating from several floor-to-ceiling specimen tanks. Scowling, the other man stood up and walked over to Szayel to tower over him. Szayel supposed this was some sort of intimidation tactic, but it was not going to work on him.

"The fuck are you lookin' at anyway? Ya get off from watchin' me?" Grimmjow's fetid breath washed over Szayel's face, but it was only a minor drawback.

"Come, now. Surely you did not expect I would remain ignorant of your little break-in. Unless, perhaps, you _wanted_ me to find you? Yes, this seems more plausible. However, it does make one question your motive," Szayel said, tapping his chin in thought, completely disregarding the other man's query. At his reply, Grimmjow gritted his teeth and slammed a hand on the wall above Szayel's head.

"I already got what I came for, Granz. Or did ya think your fairy ass meant something to me?" Grimmjow's smirk was generous, but it faltered along with his arm as the gas began to take effect.

Szayel's smirk replaced Grimmjow's own as the man's arm dropped to his side and he slumped to his knees.

"The fuck did you do to me?" came the Sexta's slurred question. He was panting from the stress-the internal effects would be enough to kill a normal Hollow, but not an Arrancar and certainly not an Espada.

Grimmjow's glare was murderous enough to make up for the stilted speech.

"Much as I might usually enjoy unpacking my methods for such woefully ignorant ears, I'm afraid our time is too short," Szayel said, as he leaned down to put a condescending hand on his fellow Espada's chin. He might have devoted more time to humiliating the man, perhaps even utilizing him for experiments, but he had to attend to much more important things this day. Aizen had given him access to the human girl, _requested_ he complete certain procedures, in fact. It was not an opportunity to be missed.

Grimmjow's mouth dropped open, but he said nothing. Or, more accurately, _couldn't_ say anything. Once again, his glare more than made his intentions clear.

Szayel patted the man's cheek before unfastening his own hakama. As much as he would have liked to draw out the punishment-and his pleasure-expediency had to take precedence in this situation.

"You might not be as familiar with this, shall we say, _circumstance_, but I am certain you will make a quick study," Szayel said, as he drew his cock out with one hand while moving the other to grip Grimmjow's hair.

The man was doing a good job of communicating his displeasure despite his current disadvantages. Such a _powerful_ gaze, that of someone used to taking what he wanted. As were they all. Szayel very much included. Which was why he didn't have any reservations about shoving his cock right into that oh, so unwilling mouth.

Grimmjow closed his mouth around him. He tried to bite down, but the touch of teeth only fueled Szayel's desire. He hummed in appreciation and licked his lips.

"Yes, just like that," he said, as he continued thrusting against that deliciously warm tongue. Grimmjow's head bobbed with his movements. His arms twitched in his lap. The man's reiatsu flared, making the air heavy and dense. But Szayel was prepared for that as well. A fan whirred to life somewhere as one of his genius inventions harvested the raw energy directly from the air. He was never one to waste resources, especially when presented with them at no cost whatsoever.

Grimmjow made another valiant effort at biting into him, but this only caused Szayel to moan. It didn't matter that the man was not moving his tongue or making an effort of any kind beyond trying to maim him. Szayel's arousal was no dependant on the whims of others, rather his satisfaction with his own accomplishments. The very fact that the Sexta had come, that he had shown evidence of proper submission to greatness, was enough.

He tightened his grip on blue hair as he continued to drive forward. Szayel's breath now came in harsh pants. He was so close.

All it took was Grimmjow's third attempt at unmanning him and he came down the man's throat. Szayel held Grimmjow's face to his groin, heedless of the little choking noises the man was making as semen shot down his gullet. Szayel held him like this until he recovered, then tossed Grimmjow to the floor like the used, ignorant piece of trash he was.


	18. Languishment RyuuHime

**Pairing:** Ryuuken/Orihime, Uryuu

**Rating/Warnings: **R / Oral

**Summary:** Orihime tests Ryuuken's formidable restraint.

**Notes:** This was written for my lovely Tomoe, who bought this story through LJ's help-Japan by providing a donation to aid relief efforts there. It's a noble cause and I'm happy, as we all are, to have contributed to it. Visit livejournal and search for the community (replacing the dash with an underscore) to find out more.

**Languishment **

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

The Inoue girl didn't seem to understand. What had started with a simple car ride had led to other things, and now here they were. Ryuuken let out a breath full of smoke as she closed the door to his apartment. Her expression was earnest. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Uryuu is upstairs." He hoped it would be enough of a deterrent to clue her in as to how inappropriate this all was. Ryuuken shouldn't have returned her naïve advances. Men held in his level of esteem didn't do that kind of thing. It was unprofessional, and Ryuuken was anything but that.

He turned without another word and walked down the hall. Her footsteps were soft and tentative behind him. He didn't look at her. Ryuuken wasn't about to let his little slip in control continue to derail him. It didn't matter how attractive the girl was, or that he had been alone for a very long time. She was young, Uryuu's age, and he wasn't about to-

There was a soft tug on his arm. Ryuuken looked down at the offending hand without emotion.

"Please, don't. I think we should-"

"There is nothing to discuss," Ryuuken said, cutting her off. His tone left no room for argument. The fingers slipped from his sleeve and he returned his attention to the hallway. The sound of steps behind him faltered for a moment, before she was there again.

Ryuuken sensed Uryuu moving above them as they entered the kitchen. He walked to the counter and poured himself a glass of brandy. Ryuuken was now certain he was going to need it.

"Uryuu will be expecting you." The glass hit the counter with a little _clink_. Ryuuken's gaze slid to regard her. She was frowning in that particularly endearing way she had. Her little sundress didn't leave much to the imagination either, at least _his_ imagination.

Ryuuken looked back at the glass in his hand.

"But I didn't come here for-"

"He'll be expecting you," Ryuuken said, cutting her off again. There was a moment of silence as she hesitated. He could hear the rustling of her dress as she clenched a hand in the fabric. Then, thankfully, _mercifully_, he was left alone with his brandy.

Ryuuken turned just in time to see her retreating back as she made her way up the stairs. He picked up the cigarette he had left burning in the ashtray on the counter and took a long drag. Somewhere nearby his clock ticked the seconds by. Ryuuken stared into the living room at the medical journal he had left open on the coffee table as he nursed his brandy.

There had been numerous women who had tried to earn his affections over the years. Ryuuken ignored the majority. He gave in a few times, but only with the explicit understanding that it was an _arrangement_ and nothing more. Ryuuken had no time for women, no time for courting or dating or anything like that. He lived for one reason alone, and that was something not easily understood by many besides his wife. He had loved her. She had known, but she was gone now.

She had deserved better. He wouldn't make the same mistake again.

"Ridiculous." The clock ticked another few minutes by, and with them, Ryuuken's patience. He poured himself another glass and leaned back against the counter with this and his fading cigarette. Smoke drifted up in loose coils to frame his face. He was done with both by the time he heard footsteps on the stairs.

The Inoue girl was alone. Ryuuken didn't know what she had told Uryuu, but his reiatsu was a constant in his room. Certainly, nothing Ryuuken could have said would have made his son stay put. He supposed it was part of the girl's innate charm and that he shouldn't be surprised. After all, she had managed to move him. In comparison, Uryuu would be little to no challenge.

The girl came to stand nearby. She was twisting her hands in the fabric of her dress again, but Ryuuken found he did not mind nearly as much as he had before. Her uncertainty, her naiveté, was part of an overall deadly attraction he felt toward the girl. His wife had been much the same, but Ryuuken had been a different man then. Given the amount of time that had passed, he was surprised this kind of woman-girl, he reminded himself-still had such a strong effect on him.

Ryuuken found himself staring at her lips and pondering the remembered taste of them. His loosened his tie with his restraint. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he didn't let her get a word out. His lips found hers as one hand pressed to the back of her neck, keeping her from breaking contact. As if he needed to. She was putty in his hands, willingly putting herself under the cutting scalpel of his regard.

He kept his eyes open even as hers fluttered closed. Cold blue sliced her innocence away one glance at a time. By the time he was done kissing the girl, her hair was irreparably ruffled. They were both panting, her moreso than him.

Ryuuken found that her dress was almost as soft as her hair when he touched her. He busied himself with mapping out every inch of her body through the fabric while becoming increasingly aware of her little cries. He covered her mouth with his again in an attempt to silence them as he lifted her onto the counter. Her muffled gasp of surprise spurred him on.

Uryuu's reiatsu was agitated, but unmoving.

Ryuuken laid Orihime down so her hair hung off the edge of the counter. He lifted her dress over her breasts and began to fondle them, his greedy hands kneading her flesh in hard circles. She was making noise again, and squirming.

Uryuu's reiatsu was still constant.

Again, Ryuuken wondered what she had said to him, although he didn't bother to ask. Now was not the time for such things. Moreover, he was certain he would find out later. Uryuu would probably have some choice words for him, but nothing Ryuuken would consider. One of such little talent and experience in the matter had nothing to tell him.

Ryuuken pulled the girl's panties down and took a moment to admire her sex. With one hand clamped down on her throat to prevent any further noises, he leaned in for a closer inspection. He remembered the taste of this too.

Ryuuken's tongue was quick at first, then slow. He could tell by the shaking of her legs and by those telltale twitches that she was enjoying it. His hand tightened just the slightest bit around her neck. Verbalizations were still unnecessary and unwanted. They would only serve to give Uryuu cause for interference and he didn't want that. Not now, with this girl panting and writhing for him.

It had been so long.

Ryuuken dragged a few more cries out of her as he worked her body, his tongue circling, dipping, and sliding along tender flesh. His own sex began its slow inclination at the taste of her skin, the way she fought to keep her legs apart.

The girl's breasts heaved along with her chest. Ryuuken admired the way they rose and fell as his tongue moved lower and then higher against her sex. She had much larger breasts than his wife. This was one of the many things that made her somewhat of an intoxicant to him.

After a while, even he couldn't help the occasional grunt that slipped forth to be muffled against her warm, wet skin. This seemed to spur her on, as he had to tighten his hold once more to halt her voice. And then she was coming and it didn't matter anymore.

Ryuuken let her throat go. The girl's hoarse cry rang through the otherwise painfully silent house to spike along with her reiatsu. Uryuu's own flared in response. Ryuuken could sense him at the top of the stairs now, but he didn't stop nor would he until the girl's shaking subsided. Uryuu wouldn't dare to interrupt, not when it meant he would have to face the harsh reality of the girl splayed out naked under Ryuuken's domineering touch.

Ryuuken's mouth worked around her entrance, his tongue darting inside to taste the forbidden fruit that he had cultivated here. It was as sweet as he remembered.

The girl lifted her head. He met her gaze, only stopping his ministrations when she opened her mouth to speak again. Ryuuken stood and abruptly smacked her sex once, twice, _three_ times. The first had her acquiescing to his unspoken command, the second and third drew gasps from her as she writhed on the table.

When he was finished, Ryuuken pulled her sundress down over her naked body and helped her stand on shaking feet. He paid no regard to his own arousal. Ryuuken might have let loose a few of his inhibitions, but there was no way he would stoop that low. Their encounters had never included actual penetration. The girl was a virgin by that right and Ryuuken did not intend to deflower her. It wasn't for him to do and he would never. Momentary pleasure wasn't worth it. He could take care of himself.

"You should go," Ryuuken said, his tone steady despite his tented slacks and wet face. There was a limit to his control. He wouldn't let her find it.

The girl's lips stretched into a thin line across her face that gave new character to her sudden flush.

"I came here to talk to you."

Ryuuken's hand was firm against her back as he began walking her to the door. They were almost there when she wrapped a hand around his erection. Ryuuken sucked in a breath. It was the first time in a long time that someone had-

She was trying his patience.

Ryuuken's glare was softened by the alcohol, but potent nonetheless. He grabbed her hand and pulled it off his sex.

"Don't."

It was almost endearing the way she frowned at him as he opened the door.

"Why not? All you've ever done is-"

Ryuuken gave the girl a gentle shove before she could finish her sentence and sent her into the complex's hallway.

"It won't happen again." Ryuuken shut and locked the door before she could turn around. He stood waiting until her reluctant reiatsu finally, belatedly faded from the premises.

The first thing Ryuuken noticed when he came back into the kitchen was the panties on the floor and the second, the fact that Uryuu was glaring at them.

"I didn't think you were capable of stooping this low," he said, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Ryuuken didn't say a word. Instead, he lit another cigarette and took a long, lazy drag.

Uryuu didn't have the faintest idea.


	19. As the Pillar Crumbles AiBya

**Pairing:** Aizen/Byakuya

**Rating/Warnings: **PG-15 / Emotional duress, implied rape

**Summary:** Acceptance is not the same as submission.

**Notes:** Continued in _Modus Operandi of a Mastermind_. Check my profile if you're interested.

**As the Pillar Crumbles**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

There was a palpable silence in the room. Even though Byakuya could not see the Hollow from his current position, he felt the weight of many eyes on his naked back. Aizen sat on his indomitable throne in front of him. The ghost of a smug smile twisted his lips upward.

"Octava," Aizen's smooth voice betrayed very little of the amusement Byakuya knew he must have been feeling.

Behind him, Byakuya heard an affirming reply and a whirring sound, but he knew better than to look-or even glance-away. The consequences of his past disobedience were still too fresh for him to ignore.

Aizen's smile widened at the wet noise.

"You are learning."

Byakuya hated that he was right. He wanted to die. He should have been dead already by his own hand if no other, but Aizen would not let him. You are mine, his eyes seemed to say.

The noise of the mechanism reached its zenith and died down. Byakuya could now hear Rukia's hoarse cries as the Hollow violated her with its machine. His gaze burned into Aizen's own, but he received no reaction and no reply. Finally, Byakuya spoke.

"There is no need for this."

Aizen positioned his elbow onto the arm of the throne and leaned his head on his hand. His gaze never strayed from Byakuya.

"I have already recognized my defeat." Byakuya pursed his lips. For a long moment, the silence stretched between them. It was punctuated only by a groan and a few coarse words of encouragement from another of Aizen's abominations.

"Acceptance is not the same as submission."

Byakuya could not deny the truth behind those words. His pride remained insurmountable as ever. This would not change no matter what the traitor forced him to endure. Aizen knew that. It was why he sank to this new low.

Byakuya hated the fact he might succeed.

"What would you have me do?"

Aizen's smile was still ethereal in its quality, but more apparent than before. He said nothing. Silence stretched between them for long seconds as this intangible battle of wills took place. Although, in reality, Byakuya reasoned, it was more like a cat toying with its prey at this point.

Byakuya hated to think of himself this way. But more than that, he hated what he was about to do. This moment would stick with him for all time.

Byakuya sank down on one knee and bowed his head without further preamble. He held out Senbonzakura with both hands and waited.

Silence.

Aizen never moved from his pure white throne, but still Byakuya felt the intangible brush of fingers over a part of his soul that had never before been sullied by another. He shuddered and a cold sweat broke out all over his body.

Aizen said nothing. He didn't need to. There was a crack in Byakuya's pride where none had been before and they both knew it. With the corporeal representation of everything Soul Society stood for, that last venerable pillar between the life and death of an ideal kneeling with his sword held up as a sacrifice to him, Aizen's victory was complete. Byakuya's humiliation, however, was far from over.


	20. Switch MayuRyuu

**Pairing:** Mayuri/Ryuuken

**Rating/Warnings: **NC-17 / Non-con

**Notes: **This is very old (circa 2007) and terrible, I'm sure. Merely posting it and a few others that will come in quick succession to make this collection more complete. Presented in its original format as I have neither the time nor the inclination to edit this. You can see how far I've come in 5+ years writing Bleach fic. Ah, my humble beginnings on the first anon Bleach kink meme on LJ!

**Switch**

**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

The surface was hard underneath Ryuuken, and cold against his bare skin. He lay bound and naked, spread-eagle across the cold metal. His joints felt stiff, achy, as if he had been in the position for quite some time. He flexed his wrist experimentally, but found the bonds there unforgiving. The blindfold he was wearing dug into his ears, the cloth so thick no light was visible through it. It was difficult for him to think clearly. He knew he must have been given some kind of drug. He had been in his office, doing some paperwork, and now he was here, wherever that was. He couldn't remember anything extraordinary about the papers, nor did he recall any strange persons in his office. He was simply baffled as to how he had been captured.

Even without the use of his eyes, Ryuuken was able to discern that he was on some kind of lab table. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and realized he still had his glasses on over the blindfold. It was strange, but much welcomed. It was good to have something familiar, something of his, nearby. He tried to lift his legs, hoping for more good fortune, but the ropes at his knees and ankles held tight. They weren't uncomfortable per se, but the position left Ryuuken feeling quite undignified. He was _exposed_, and he didn't like it one bit. He could only imagine what he looked like lying there, legs spread wide, sweat no doubt beading lewdly on his pale skin. He was supposed to be the one in control, the experimenter, certainly not the subject of the experiment. The very thought of being the subject made him grit his teeth. He was not amused. Not at all.

As his thoughts became more coherent, the drugs seeming to wear off a bit, Ryuuken wondered what on Earth they were going to do to him; _they_being a loose term, he had no idea of the number or identity of his captors. It certainly couldn't be anyone from Soul Society, of this he was most sure. The Shinigami had stopped their experiments on the Quincy years ago. They had all the data they could ever need on the fallen race and had no need to torment the remaining few survivors. He supposed it could be one of his colleagues. A few were jealous enough to attempt such a thing. He tried to think of which ones were most likely to be this brash, and had almost come to a conclusion, when he heard footsteps, heard voices coming closer. It sounded like more than one person was talking, but he was unable to make sense of the dialogue. A door creaked somewhere close by, and a wave of cold air assaulted his body, causing him to shiver. Footsteps approached the lab table, and even though he remained impassive, his captor seemed to know he was awake.

"Awake are you, Quincy? Good," the person crooned, stepping closer to the table. The voice was hauntingly familiar, though he couldn't seem to place it, a side effect of the drugs perhaps. When he didn't respond, he felt a cold hand settle on his thigh. "Pretend all you want. My experiment will have the same effect on you." Ryuuken remained silent, and the hand retreated, only to come back a few moments later, this time coming to rest on his flaccid cock, fingers encircling the limp flesh there. He let out a tiny, almost inaudible, gasp as his captor squeezed and fondled the quickly hardening organ. Another set of fingers were brought to bear against his asshole. They were cold and wet against his sensitive skin, and he shivered from the dual sensation of the hand on his cock and the cold hardness at his entrance.

Several of the latex covered digits pushed past his sphincter and deep inside of him, smearing what he assumed was some type of lubricant as they went. They scissored inside of him, once, twice, three times, and then retreated, replaced with some other, unfamiliar hardness. This slick hardness pushed against his entrance and was granted access, against his will, plunging deep inside of him as the hand that was playing with his now hard dick continued to fondle him, pumping hard and fast until he felt like he was about to explode.

His breath came in short gasps and he was just about to come when the hand on his cock stopped. He grunted in frustration and pulled against his bindings, still unable to free himself. He heard a sound like something being uncapped and a second later felt the sharp prick of a needle directly on his cock.

He groaned at the sensation. He never known giving blood could be so erotic, not that he would tell his captors that. If possible, he felt like his dick was actually getting harder instead of softening because of the blood loss. He groaned again, unable to stop himself, as the needle was removed.

His captor cackled, the sound ringing in his ears, as the long object in his ass began to move. In and out, in and out, the slick glass-or was it metal?-plunged into him over and over, wringing soft gasps from him each time. The sensation was almost too much; it had been long, too long since he had indulged himself in such pleasures.

He writhed, arms pulling at the tight bindings, legs trying vainly to close on his captor's hand as it pumped his cock, tight and unforgiving against his hard flesh. He heard a loud moaning sound and realized that it was coming from him, yet he could do nothing to silence himself, the sound just kept on coming. The thing in his ass pumped harder and it was all he could do not to writhe against it. The hand on his cock kept busy, and Ryuuken could feel his orgasm building, his balls stingingly tight and as close as they could get to his body now. All it took was his captor covering the head of his cock with some hard material and he was gone, liquid jets of his pleasure spewing into whatever it was that was covering his dick.

The thing inside of him stopped and was removed as he lay panting, trying to catch his breath and slow his heart rate. He felt the hand on his dick leave too, slipping whatever hardness had been present before off his softening flesh. He heard footsteps walking away from him accompanied by the clink of glassware and the swish of fabric.

"I think these samples will do nicely, Quincy," his captor said, the cold voice giving him goosebumps. Ryuuken grimaced, wondering what on Earth they were going to do with his 'samples.' Before he could think on the matter too much, hurried footsteps sounded from what he assumed was the hall, and he heard a loud _thunk_as the door was thrown open to hit the wall.

"Mayuri-taichou, there's trouble! One of the other subjects has-" Mayuri cut the newcomer off with a loud hiss.

"I told you, I already know about that," he snapped. "Now get out. I told you never to interrupt me in the middle of an experiment." The newcomer mumbled an apology and bade a hasty retreat, leaving Ryuuken and his captor, a Shinigami _captain_alone.

From his position on the lab table, he seethed, muscles shaking with suppressed rage. No matter what, he vowed, he would get revenge on the Shinigami bastard who had _dared_ to experiment on he, the last and greatest of the Quincy.


	21. A Good Scientist MayuSzay

**Pairing:** Mayuri/Szayel Aporro/Mayuri

**Rating/Warnings: **NC-17 / Electrophilia, implied rape

**Summary:** Szayel Aporro is brought back to Mayuri's lab for some experimentation. Unpredictable results occur.

**Notes:** Another older work. I still stand by the idea of revenge presented here even though Szayel is infinitely more BAMF than we knew at the time.

**A Good Scientist  
by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

"A good scientist should anticipate…" The hand on Szayel's cock tightened, sending a thrill through his abused body. "…change. Should know that things aren't always as they seem," Mayuri continued with a chuckle, slipping a metal ring over the end of Szayel's straining erection and forcing the well-lubricated thing down the length of his shaft until it pushed against his balls.

Szayel closed his eyes as the other man began attaching wires to the thing, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Although he was grateful that Mayuri had given him the antidote to the mind-altering drug he had been administered during their battle, he was certainly not happy with the outcome.

It was true Mayuri had stabbed him through with his zanpakutou, but it was really just for show. The drug in his system had also worked as a coagulant, stopping him from bleeding to death while the Shinigami was busy elsewhere. The vile man had come back for him when his work was done, taking Szayel back to Soul Society as a prize specimen. He had been there for weeks now, subjected to every kind of experiment imaginable, and so much more. It seemed this captain was as perverted as Szayel himself, perhaps even more so. Under the thin guise of research, he had taken to performing sexual experiments on the Espada.

Szayel shuddered as the other man placed a long, thick probe against his asshole. It was cold against his sensitive skin, obviously metal, and slick with lube. He almost smirked, imagining what kind of excuse the Shinigami would come up with for _this_. The other man slid the thing far enough inside that it touched his prostate and stopped, connecting wires from the ring around Szayel's cock to the end of the metal probe. The slight pressure it exerted made Szayel's cock twitch, made him ache for release, but he didn't show it. His already good poker face had been put to the test many times during his captivity, and despite everything, had rarely failed him.

He almost sighed in relief when Mayuri withdrew, opening his eyes to see the other man attaching the trailing wires to a nearby machine. It was an unimaginable humiliation to be on the receiving end of such treatment, especially when the one doing this to him was a _Shinigami_. The farther the other man was away from him, the better. If Szayel just ignored him, he could imagine that he was back in his own laboratory in Hueco Mundo, could imagine it was Aizen experimenting on him. The mere thought of his master was enough to cause his cock to jerk in excitement. He rolled his eyes, glad Mayuri was otherwise occupied and did not notice his little slip up.

In all his time in the other scientist's domain, he had yet to see anyone else. It was most strange, and Szayel had concluded he was not in the other's main laboratory, but a smaller one, most likely private. It made sense considering the "experiments" Mayuri was performing on him and the fact that he was an Espada. If their places were reversed, Szayel would have done the same. There were no limits to the things one could do to a subject in private.

Szayel flexed his wrists. He had never given it much thought before, but it really was quite tiresome being shackled down. Although he was more aroused than he cared to admit, he could still feel the uncomfortable tightness of the reiatsu resistant cuffs keeping him prisoner. The metal encircling all his major joints was thin, but surprisingly strong. Szayel knew his physical strength was sub-par when compared to his mental acuity, but that hadn't stopped him from trying to break the bonds with brute force. As expected, and despite his best efforts, they had remained firmly in place, not budging an inch. It was all very frustrating, just lying there, but he had grown accustomed to it over time.

There were a few clicking noises as Mayuri finalized the connections between wire and machine, and then the man was back at Szayel's side, sliding around until he had a good view of the probe buried deep in Szayel's ass. "A good scientist should have a high pain threshold. There will always be accidents, and these can cause varying degrees of harm to the body," he crooned, absentmindedly stroking Szayel's erection as he fiddled with the probe in his ass, attaching several more wires to it.

Szayel ignored the other man's inane monologue, as he had for the greater portion of their time together. At first he had been his usual self, all dripping sarcasm and witty comebacks, but the more the man droned on about his views on science, the more disgusted Szayel became. It was as if he thought Szayel a mere lab technician, and was trying to _educate_him. Szayel was not having it. Mayuri might have been a scientist for longer, but in Szayel's short time as an Arrancar, he had already surpassed the other man in many ways. If not for a mere miscalculation on his part, their places would have been reversed.

He had not spoken in days, and didn't intend to start now. It was far more prudent to focus his mental facilities on a useful subject, such as devising a plan for his escape. Because escape he would, and _oh_, would Mayuri be sorry then.

He was busy planning just that and almost had a feasible idea in mind, when the first jolt of electricity from the probe and cock-ring hit him. His reaction was as involuntary as it was immediate, his back bowing as much as the restraints would allow, a surprised groan tearing free from his dry lips. The sensation was short-lived, however, as Mayuri quickly cut the power.

Szayel found himself panting lightly, perspiration gathering on his otherwise pristine brow as Mayuri scribbled down some notes in the pad of paper he was holding. He had almost calmed himself when the second jolt hit him, cutting short all rational thought. This one lasted longer and as it subsided, Szayel felt something inside of him _crack_.

Mayuri flicked the switch again and as the electricity passed through his body, Szayel could feel his orgasm building. The world went white as the pressure grew in his skull, pleasure so intense it was almost pain rebounding through his body as the crack inside of himself widened. Sightless eyes opened wide and restraints groaning against the sudden surge in his reiatsu, Szayel exploded, his awareness shattering as his release overtook him.

As his mind cleared, Szayel found himself free of the debilitating, reiatsu-resistant cuffs, found himself standing instead of lying down. One glance at the tentacles in place of his feet was all it took to realize that he had somehow broken the mental barrier keeping himself from the rest of his abilities. Zanpakutou were merely extensions of a person's powers, so it made sense that under extreme duress his had freed him. It was certainly surprising and required much further study, but at a different time. Szayel knew he must act quickly.

Unfurling his wings, Szayel gave the surprised Shinigami a cold smile, black liquid exploding out of his back as he did so. Although Mayuri was quick, his surprise slowed him enough that he was unable to dodge all of the substance. The vile man grimaced as his copy grew next to him. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a knife, unsuccessfully trying to injure his clone. He struck at its heart, but was met blade-to-blade with the exact same knife.

Standing nearby, Szayel watched as the two exchanged blows, an amused half-smile on his lips. It was one thing to study data, but quite another to have the experience of fighting _yourself_firsthand.

"Tsk, tsk. A good scientist should know his limits," Szayel quipped, pointing at Mayuri as he threw some of the vile man's earlier "advice" back at him. Szayel had certainly heard enough of _that_to last a lifetime. He sucked in a breath, letting it out slow. It felt so good to be free, but better yet was the fact that he had the upper hand in this battle. Over the course of his time in Mayuri's care, he had noticed the other man never had his zanpakutou with him. Szayel assumed it was because of what had happened in Hueco Mundo, but it did not matter. Whatever Mayuri intended, he was significantly less equipped to fight without it.

As Shinigami and clone fought, Szayel was busy contemplating his escape from Soul Society. Although his abilities were above par, he was in the middle of the enemy's territory. He would have to tread carefully to make it home in one piece. This brought his mind back to his current incarnation. Szayel had no idea if he would be able to revert to his previous form after having his release forced on him in such a manner. Eyes narrowed, Szayel came to a decision. He moved forward, propelling himself at Mayuri. On his command, the copy attacked from the other side.

Mayuri dodged the copy's attack and moved to engage Szayel, grinning all the while. He slashed out with his knife, cutting Szayel's arm. It was a shallow wound, but stung nonetheless. Szayel quickly stepped back, the clone coming up behind Mayuri for a surprise attack. As expected, this was only partially successful, Mayuri managing to angle his body so the clone's knife grazed his shoulder. He turned toward the copy, and Szayel grinned, coming up to wrap his wing around the Shinigami.

Before Szayel could finish, a sharp pain exploded in his chest, and he looked down to find Mayuri's knife buried in his flesh. Eyes wide, he watched as red crept out from the wound. Behind Mayuri, the copy crumpled to the ground.

"Dead or alive, it doesn't matter to me," Mayuri said, chuckling, his hand still on the knife's hilt. For a moment, Szayel stood frozen, and then his eyes narrowed.

"Wha-," he gasped and collapsed to the ground. Mayuri's chuckle turned into full-blown laughter as Szayel twitched on the floor. He took a step forward, ready to finish Szayel off, but the copy grabbed him from behind. His laughter abruptly stopped as one of Szayel's tentacles wrapped itself around his body. "Just…kidding," Szayel choked out, his vision fading.

"A good scientist knows experiments can have unpredictable results…" The voice and accompanying laughter did not come out of the body on the floor, but from the tentacle holding Mayuri. The Shinigami's eyes widened at this, the egg inside of him growing, sapping his strength. He wilted, held up not by his own power, but by that of his clone's. His stomach quickly expanding, he cursed and tried to reach for the knife buried in the fallen Szayel's chest, but was unsuccessful. Fingers curled in on themselves and skin clung to bones as muscles atrophied, all nutrients in Mayuri's body being consumed by the growing Szayel. A gurgling hiss announced his death and Szayel's rebirth, the Espada pushing his way out of Mayuri's mouth.

The newly reborn Szayel looked from the corpse back to the faux Mayuri and a manic grin overtook his features, his lips spreading wider than he would have thought possible. It was high time to steal all the asshole's research. But first, a little revenge. By his own volition, he had chosen to return in his unreleased state. It was just as useful to him as his release.

Szayel moved closer to the dead body and stood above it, feet spread a little as he freed his straining cock from his hakama. It seemed that along with his impressive abilities, he had also acquired Mayuri's unresolved sexual tension. As if he needed more evidence that the other man found "experimenting" on Szayel arousing.

Szayel pumped his cock with one hand, jerking it harshly until he came hard onto the corpse's dried face, white jets of his semen landing on the shriveled lips and sunken cheeks of his dead captor. He slumped, sighing in satisfaction as the last jet of his come landed in the eye of the corpse. Off to the side, the Mayuri-who-was-not-Mayuri looked on with dull eyes, and Szayel smiled.


	22. Price to Pay GrimmIchi

**Pairing:** Grimmjow/Ichigo

**Rating/Warnings: **NC-17 / All the kinky sex and nothing more.

**Summary:** Ichigo disobeys Grimmjow and is punished for his misdeed.

**Notes:** This fic won 3rd place in bleach-bdsm's (LJ) 2007 contest. I won't read it again for fear I'll hate it as tends to happen with everything I write.

**Price to Pay**  
**by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

With his head buried in the pillows and his bare ass in the air, Ichigo couldn't recall a time when he had felt more tense. Behind him, tough, reiatsu resistant cords held his hands in place, cutting into his flesh ever so slightly, a delightful burn against his straining muscles. Trembling slightly, he waited for his partner to return with enough cord for both of his legs. Although he couldn't sense him, he knew Grimmjow must still be in the room somewhere.

The man had just shown up out of the blue at Urahara's shop, demanding to see him. Of course, Urahara had had no problem with this whatsoever. He let Grimmjow in and led him right to Ichigo, smiling all the while. _"He's probably watching or even video taping us right now, the old perv,"_thought Ichigo, rolling his eyes and smiling despite himself. Before he could take this train of thought any further, he felt the bed sink down behind him and a characteristically rough hand land on his ass.

"Feelin' a little free there, are we shinigami? I got just the thing," Grimmjow said, chuckling as he took advantage of Ichigo's prone position, lightly slapping his ass a few times. Ichigo grunted into the pillows and raised his butt higher in response, which only caused Grimmjow to laugh harder. "You like it, don't'cha, you shinigami slut?" he quipped as he spanked Ichigo harder, his ass no do doubt reddening by now. Each slap of Grimmjow's hand sent a thrill through Ichigo's body, down the length of his cock to its dripping head. He knew if the Espada kept it up any longer, he would lose himself.

"St-stop or I'm gonna…." Ichigo stuttered, muffled voice trailing off as Grimmjow's hand paused behind him, blow no doubt ready to fall. He wilted on the bed in relief when it did not come, cock bumping the mattress slightly, leaving a wet spot on the fabric as his hips dipped downward. He didn't want to think of what would have happened had he come without being given permission. Grimmjow loved punishing him, and as much joy as Ichigo took in the various degrading things that were demanded of him, he was always a little apprehensive of anything new. Grimmjow was so unpredictable sometimes; he had a hard time fathoming the depth of the Espada's depravity.

He sank further down onto the mattress, slightly dazed from his almost-release, but was yanked out of his stupor by hands roughly pulling his legs apart by the knees. "We ain't nearly done yet," Grimmjow said as he looped cord around Ichigo's right knee and violently pulled it tight. Ichigo's back arched and he sank further into the pillows as the cord dug into his flesh, waves of pleasure continuing to rock through him as Grimmjow gave his ankle the same harsh treatment before tying both off to the bedpost. He moved on to Ichigo's other leg, this time pausing to lick the back of his knee-a particularly sensitive spot of his-eliciting an almost painful sounding moan from him before pulling the cord tight. With both his legs and arms tied tight and rebounding waves of pleasure flooding his body, Ichigo couldn't hold back anymore. Breath coming in short gasps, he came hard, spraying both his chest and the sheets with the evidence of his pleasure. For this he gained a swift punch to the side, his ribs rocking with the impact of the blow. He gasped and writhed against Grimmjow, his convoluted mind unsure how to process the feeling of the hard flesh digging into his side.

"Who the fuck gave you permission to come, eh?" Grimmjow asked, digging his knuckles into Ichigo's side and slapping his drooping erection for emphasis. Ichigo tried to close his legs to protect himself from a repeat of the semi-unwanted sensation, but was prevented from doing so by the harshly tight cords trapping them. He groaned, half in frustration of his interrupted afterglow, and half in renewed ardeur. Upon receiving no response from him other than his fidgeting and muffled cries, Grimmjow slapped his cock again. "Well?"

"No one…I'm sorry, Grimmjow," Ichigo said, panting slightly, his voice muffled by the pillows pressing against his face. Grimmjow curled a calloused hand around his cock and squeezed slightly in response.

"Damn right I didn't fucking give you permission. And it's _master_ to you, _bitch_. Don't ever forget who you belong to. You come when I say you can," he said, giving Ichigo's half-flaccid cock a harsh squeeze, gaining a moan from him, before letting it drop. Ichigo felt the bed move as Grimmjow left it, and heard his footsteps as he also left the room. He was alone for a few minutes, fidgeting uncomfortably, arms and legs starting to grow sore from prolonged abuse, before Grimmjow returned, his footfalls distinct on the wooden floor.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief; he had honestly thought Grimmjow might leave him there, bound and nude, where anyone could find him as punishment, but he knew better than that. He might leave him still, but not until he was completely satisfied. Things were far from over. Almost as if on cue, he felt the bed sink down again as Grimmjow resumed his previous position behind him. There was a moment of stillness, then he felt something hard pressing against his asshole.

"Didja think you'd get away without punishment?" Grimmjow scoffed, pressing the hardness against his entrance until his muscles gave, pushing it inside a little bit. "I'd tear ya a new one if I wasn't so goddamn horny. All your fuckin' fault. Always training and shit so I can't see ya," he continued as he pushed the thing harder into his dry asshole. Ichigo balked at the intrusion, wishing he had some lube to make things easier. He hated getting his ass chafed. It always burned when he was training or trying to take a dump. He couldn't stand it.

There was a strange clicking noise and the thing inside him sprang to life, vibrating hard as the Espada plunged it all the way into his ass, hitting that spot inside of him that made want to scream. He was instantly hard again, uncaring that there was no lube. He bucked back against Grimmjow's waiting hand, straining against his bonds, letting out one long groan as Grimmjow withdrew the object and plunged it back into him. Although the thing was smaller than average, it more than made up for it with the strong vibrations that made Ichigo writhe with pleasure. Panting hard and trying to control himself, he swore into the pillows as he realized what it must be.

"Grimmjow, is that my-"

"Shut the fuck up," he replied, cutting Ichigo off by plunging the thing back into his ass and grabbing his dick at the same time. Ichigo winced, his mouth open wide to reply, but all that came out was another, somewhat strangled sounding moan. "Ya look so indecent, shinigami. All tied up, being fucked by your own toothbrush, and _loving_it," Grimmjow said, laughing as he pumped said toothbrush in and out of his ass. Ichigo was incensed.

"I knew it! That's my-ah-my fucking toothbrush you asshole!" he exclaimed, trying vainly to reach back for it. "Ah-fucking stop it already. I have to brush my teeth with that!" he continued, still trying to reach for it. Grimmjow let go of his dick and easily slapped his hands away.

"Sit back and take it. This's your punishment for disobeying me and ya know it," Grimmjow said, still chuckling as he thrust the toothbrush in and out of Ichigo's ass. Mad as he was, it was all Ichigo could do not to come. Each time Grimmjow hit his prostate, the sensual feeling vibrations made him groan and press his ass against his partners hand, desperately seeking more. This apparently amused Grimmjow, as Ichigo heard him laugh harder as he slapped him on the ass again. Ichigo ignored the Espada's laughter, and focused on maintaining control of himself. If he came again without permission, there was no telling what Grimmjow would do this time. Using his own toothbrush as a dildo had been bad enough. He didn't have to worry about this long, however, as the offending object was pulled from him rather roughly, and he heard it clatter to the floor, vibrating along the wood there.

A squirting noise sounded behind him, and he winced as two slick fingers pushed into his now stretched asshole. The fingers moved around a bit, and soon after, retreated, leaving him feeling empty until he felt the familiar hardness of Grimmjow's cock against his entrance. He sighed in relief as the man pushed his slick cock into him as deep as he could go.

Grimmjow smacked Ichigo on the ass and swore as he tightened around his dick, before sliding out and pushing roughly back in. The hard, throbbing cock in his ass was so large that Ichigo couldn't help the involuntary spasms that raced through him. He panted, wanting nothing more than to be fucked hard into the mattress, loving it when Grimmjow gripped his hips hard in preparation for just that. He began a rough pace, slamming into Ichigo hard enough to make him slide forward into the pillows, cords pulling harshly on his legs, digging into them hard enough to cut off his circulation. This only fueled Ichigo's desire, and he pressed back against his partner as much as the cords would allow, rocking forward again with Grimmjow's powerful return thrusts. Any momentary aches and pains were forgotten as Grimmjow filled him again and again, his balls slapping against the bottom of Ichigo's ass. His fingers dug into Ichigo's hips hard enough to bruise, nails cutting into his flesh, leaving thin crimson trails of blood to flow down his sides and drip onto the already sullied sheets.

The stinging pain from these minor wounds only brought Ichigo closer to ecstasy. He could feel the painful tension in his balls begin to worsen, could feel the way his nipples stood erect, the friction from the sheet causing them to harden. Grimmjow was panting hard now as well, his pace becoming faster and more erratic with each thrust. He pounded into Ichigo with wild abandon, clearly lost in his forthcoming orgasmic bliss. Ichigo groaned as his partner hit his prostate, and this was all it took to send him over the edge. He came, screaming his ecstasy into the pillows, semen squirting out to stain what little clean space remained on the sheets. In the throes of passion, he bucked back against Grimmjow, and this was enough to send him over the edge as well, his hot come pumping deep into Ichigo's ass as he swore loudly and raked his nails down Ichigo's back.

For a few moments, there was nothing but a chorus of pants and the sound of the toothbrush vibrating against the floorboards, then Grimmjow pulled out and Ichigo felt the bed shift as he slid off, cursing again as he apparently stepped on the toothbrush. Ichigo heard him pad away and assumed he was going to the bathroom to wash. They never used condoms, so it was only natural he would want to get cleaned up right away. He could only hope Grimmjow would return with a much needed washcloth and help him out too.

He sat in exhausted silence, slumped over on the bed, come and blood streaming down his body, waiting for Grimmjow to return, which he wished would happen soon. He had an itch on his upper back that he just could not reach, no matter how hard he tried. The damage the cords had caused was also becoming more apparent to him now that his orgasmic haze was starting to fade. His back felt raw where Grimmjow had scratched him, and he couldn't wait to take a shower and nap. Every time they were together, Grimmjow always wore him out. That was why he had lately been avoiding the Espada, though with dire consequences, it seemed. Grimmjow had been much more vigorous than usual this time. Ichigo sighed, wishing he had never avoided him and vowing it wouldn't happen again. He got horny too, but he could take care of himself if needed. Grimmjow, apparently, couldn't-or wouldn't. He was almost asleep, despite it all, when he heard Grimmjow's distinct footsteps enter the room and approach the bed, heard him pick up the vibrating toothbrush. He felt hopeful for a second that Grimmjow was going to help him out, but when no washcloth came and he didn't leave the room, but instead sank back down on the bed, he started to get nervous. Suddenly Grimmjow chuckled.

"And this's for not callin' me master, _bitch_. You're a good lay, but ya need to learn some fuckin' manners," Grimmjow said as he slid the toothbrush back into Ichigo's sore ass, angling it so it touched his prostate, just enough to torture him. He slid off the bed a final time, laughing as he padded away and left the indignant Ichigo to his fate.


	23. Pretty Awful in Pink GrimmIchi

**Pairing:** Grimmjow/Ichigo

**Rating/Warnings: **NC-17 / Whips, crossdressing, and a pool. Oh, my! Kinky sex ahead.

**Summary:** Grimmjow has a surprise for Ichigo.

**Notes:** 1st place winner of the 2008 contest at bleach-bdsm (LJ). You can tell what pairing I really liked at the beginning of my Bleach writing career by now, yes? :D;

**Pretty Awful in Pink  
by: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

"Ya look ridiculous, Shinigami." Grimmjow said, chuckling, his slow, easy tone of voice grating on Ichigo's nerves. He scowled as Grimmjow sized him up, the Espada's grin so wide Ichigo thought the man's face might split in two.

"And whose fault is that, huh? You're the one who made me put this fucking thing on," Ichigo said, frowning as he stepped closer to the water behind him and farther away from Grimmjow. They were at a public pool, and not just _any_public pool, but the one at his high school.

Grimmjow had ambushed him after class, insisting he had something to show Ichigo. He had dragged Ichigo to the locker rooms, telling him to slip out of his body or he'd be sorry. Knowing Grimmjow meant business, Ichigo had complied and the two had stuffed his body into a locker. It was ridiculous, really, and made Ichigo wish he had brought Kon with him-which he would have if he had known Grimmjow was going to pay him a visit that day. Not that the fucker ever gave him any notice. Oh, no. Grimmjow couldn't be bothered with such a trivial thing as _that_.

Standing two inches from his high school's pool, Ichigo could not believe what was happening to him. He sincerely hoped no one could see him. Clad in this pink, frilly, piece of shit swimsuit, he'd be the laughingstock of the school for sure if any of his classmates _did_notice him. Grimmjow did not appear to share this sentiment, however, the other man's huge grin still in place as he raked his eyes down Ichigo's body.

"You bet yer ass I did," Grimmjow replied, snorting then laughing as he stepped closer and gave Ichigo a swift smack on his pink ass. Ichigo winced at the loud noise Grimmjow's hand connecting with his flesh made. There were only a few people in the pool, but no way to know for sure whether they could see he and Grimmjow or not. Ichigo knew he presented a lewd spectacle, dressed in this girly one-piece, but knew they could just be being polite and trying their best to ignore him.

"Where the hell did you get this…_thing_anyway? No fucking water in Hueco Mundo." Ichigo pulled at the strap, letting it go and flinching in disgust as it hit his skin.

"I didn't get it from there, dumbass. Just stopped by that strange-broad-you-call-a-friend's place. Ya know, the one with the huge tits," Grimmjow said, miming grabbing them. Ichigo blanched, his eyes wide.

"O-orihime?" he said, his face reddening as the realization he was wearing her bathing suit sank in. Well, that would explain the excess fabric in the front. The thing was tight, but the chest tented out, fabric sagging over his less-than-buxom form.

"Whatever the fuck her name is, I don't give a shit. Point is, Shinigami, ya still got some laps to do," Grimmjow retorted, spitting on the pavement before sneering at Ichigo and taking several steps toward him.

"You're such an asshole. I can't believe you stole Orihime's clothes! Why the fuck I listened to you, I'll never know," Ichigo said, stepping up to the edge of the pool. While it was true he had agreed to put the shitty thing on, Grimmjow never said anything about _laps_. Ichigo did not intend to humor the other man any further. It should have been enough that he agreed to this humiliation in the first place.

"'Cuz you're my bitch, that's fuckin' why. An' ya better watch what ya say to me," Grimmjow replied, his eyes narrowed. Scowling, Ichigo opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Grimmjow gave him a shove and he fell backwards into the pool.

Spluttering and indignant, Ichigo kicked powerful legs and rose to the surface. He had only been under for a moment and could still see the waves from his fall surging outwards. Whipping his head around, he looked at the other people in the pool. None of them appeared to be looking his way. It was strange, but Ichigo was relieved they had not noticed the splash. Turning back to Grimmjow, he spit a jet of water at the other man, who easily dodged it.

"What are ya so worried about, dumbass? Start swimmin'. No one can see ya," Grimmjow quipped, giving Ichigo a look that said he'd better _or else_. Rolling his eyes, Ichigo swam a few feet away and back. No one could say he wasn't a compromising person.

"Happy now?" Ichigo hoped Grimmjow would be as that was the most the Espada was going to get out of him. No way was he swimming laps in some girly swimsuit. It was tight in all the wrong places, loose in the worst of them, and that excess fabric on the front billowed out in the water making him look like a complete idiot. Scowling, Ichigo tried his best to flatten it down, but with little success.

Deciding he'd had enough of the crappy thing, he made to get out of the pool, but was stopped by a sharp pain on his wrist as he grabbed the ladder. Cursing, Ichigo drew his hand back and examined the fresh welt rising up on his otherwise pristine skin. It wasn't until he heard Grimmjow chuckling that he realized the other man was responsible. Snapping his head around to look at the Espada, Ichigo's eyes widened and then narrowed at the leather whip in his hand.

"The fuck was that for? I did what you asked! And where the hell did you get that anyway? Stealing from someone else?" Ichigo said, propelling himself backward and away from the ladder. It was better to keep a safe distance from Grimmjow when he was like this. Although they had been lovers for quite some time, Ichigo had never seen the other man with any _proper_ equipment. If he hadn't been in the water, he would have been sweating by now. Grimmjow's _playful_moods never ended well for him.

"You know exactly what it's for, _bitch_. Told ya already, you got some laps to do. A few feet ain't gonna cut it. As for this…" Chuckling, Grimmjow stretched and snapped the leather in his hands. "…got it from big tits' place too. Bet ya didn't think she was into this shit, huh?" Still chuckling, Grimmjow let the whip unfurl to touch the ground, the excess coiling at his feet.

His heart palpitating in his chest, face flushed, Ichigo wondered if it were possible to die of mortification. If it were, he certainly had one foot in the grave with this. He had always thought of Orihime as an innocent, had _never_ wanted to believe otherwise. This was waaay too much information, and Ichigo let himself sink in the water until only the top of his head was visible. He did _not_want to have to converse with anyone at the moment.

He had almost shaken the feeling of wrongness pervading his entire being when a he heard a snap and felt a sharp pain on his head. "Goddammit Grimmjow, not my fucking scalp!" Ichigo exclaimed, shooting up out of the water to clutch his head as he tried to clear his nose of all the water he had accidentally snorted. His wrist was one thing, but Grimmjow had to be crazy if he thought Ichigo would just sit back and accept being beaten in the head. He opened his mouth to say just that, but was cut off _again_by the whip flying towards him. Ichigo ducked, splashing to the side as the leather thing whistled past.

"Well what are ya waitin' for? Get to it," Grimmjow replied, unfazed. He raised the whip high, ready to strike again, but Ichigo was ahead of him this time. Taking a deep breath, he dove underwater and began swimming toward the other end of the pool. It was a long way, but Ichigo felt safer underwater. He doubted the Espada would hit him while he was being _obedient_, but could not be too sure his classmates wouldn't see the splashing. It was some sort of miracle they hadn't noticed already, and Ichigo wasn't about to press his luck.

With a few more strokes of his powerful legs, Ichigo emerged gasping at the opposite end of the pool. It was the shallow end and he could have stood up if he wanted, but he didn't feel like it. Being in such uncomfortable and embarrassing swimwear left him with no qualms about concealing himself. Turning around, he saw Grimmjow glaring at him from the other end of the pool and knew he better get back. After a moment's rest, he dove under again, pushing himself off the wall this time.

Ichigo had been rushed the first time, trying to get away from Grimmjow and that damn whip, but took his time coming back. Not because he wanted to, but because the swimsuit with its shitty excess fabric was a real pain, slowing Ichigo down while he tried to swim in such a way that the excess didn't balloon out in the back. It was a nice little _feature_he hadn't noticed before, but was painfully aware of now. A frustrating half a length of pool later and he was back where he started. He came up slowly, one arm above his head to ward off any blows that might be coming his way. Instead, he found a grinning Grimmjow in wait for him, hands on hips.

"Now _that's_more like it, Shinigami. Knew ya had it in you. Don't know why ya fight me so fuckin' hard about shit." He was still gripping the whip, and Ichigo hesitated responding, wondering what else the man might expect from him. After a moment's pause, he rolled his eyes and headed for the ladder, deciding he'd take the punishment. He had to get out of the swimsuit if it was the last thing he did. Damn thing was riding up in places Ichigo didn't want to think about. Clearly not made for men. Or, at least, not for him.

Gripping the ladder, he hauled himself out of the water and stood dripping, orange hair plastered to his head, waiting to see what the Espada would do. Quick as only he could be, Grimmjow was on him, palming his cock through the pink fabric with one hand, the other drawn out and quickly back in for a smack to his ass. Sucking in a breath, it was all Ichigo could do not to stumble back. He hadn't expected _this_kind of welcome, had been fully prepared to dodge a few lashings and make a hasty exit to the locker room to reclaim his body and be done with the pink monstrosity.

Grimmjow's hand on his wrist brought him out of his shocked state, and he blinked several times before looking down at the offending limb. He was about to ask for an explanation, but as Grimmjow pulled his other hand in and tied both with the whip, it all became clear.

"Go on. Get over there an' bend over," Grimmjow said, turning Ichigo around and giving his ass another smack, sending him back toward the pool ladder. Frowning, Ichigo looked over his shoulder at the Espada.

"The hell you got planned now?" he asked as he bent over, Grimmjow getting a face full of his pink ass.

"Yer a dumb fucker, you know it?" the Espada responded, sneering as he reached down to tie the other end of the whip to the pool ladder, nice and close. "An' pink looks _terrible_on ya."

Ichigo could have told him that to begin with. Pink was for _girls_, although he wouldn't exactly be surprised if he found Ishida wearing the color. Shaking his head, Ichigo pushed back the thought. He was already growing hard in anticipation of what Grimmjow would do next and did _not_want his boner harshed. As if reading his mind, the other man came up behind him and began to massage his ass cheeks, spanking each lightly before drawing away.

Again, Ichigo thought of how ridiculous he must look in the stupid bathing suit, and wished he'd had the foresight to take it off as soon as he got out of the pool. He should have known Grimmjow would jump on him like this. The man had a damn near insatiable sex drive and could never keep his hands to himself for very long. Sighing, he gripped the metal in front of his hands, steeling himself for whatever the other man had planned for them. He wasn't sure how it would work with him in a one-piece bathing suit, unable to take it off, but knew the other man too well to doubt his capabilities.

Suddenly Grimmjow was back, nails digging into Ichigo's flesh as he viciously tore the bottom half of the swimsuit away. Ichigo hissed at the newfound freedom, relieved, but still annoyed by the remaining half of the bathing suit hanging limp from his upper torso. The man definitely had some kind of ESP, or whatever the hell it was called, Ichigo thought, gripping the handrail harder. He was still embarrassed that they were doing this in such a familiar, public place, but that only seemed to add to his desire. Grimmjow had barely touched him, but he was already fully erect. Behind him, the Espada laughed.

"You can pretend all ya want, but I know ya like it, my horny bitch." The last was punctuated with a slap, which echoed off the hard planes in the room. Ichigo grunted in response. His face might have been red, but he wasn't about to agree with the other man, and disagreeing wouldn't get him what he wanted.

Soon enough, Grimmjow's hand found his entrance, and Ichigo's favorite part, or one of many favorite parts of sex began. Grimmjow stretched him with first two well-lubricated fingers, then three. He groaned as the third was stuffed into his ass, pushing back against Grimmjow's calloused hand for more. The Espada obliged him, pumping all three fingers hard and fast inside of him until Ichigo cried out.

Chuckling, Grimmjow drew his hand back, replacing it with his hard cock as he gripped Ichigo's hips. "Better fuckin' hold on." Ichigo gripped the handrail until his knuckles grew white. He knew the Espada, knew he wasn't kidding when he said something like that. Sure enough, the man's first thrust inside of him was brutal, tearing a gasp from his throat and nearly causing him to lose his footing. Ichigo quickly righted himself as Grimmjow drew back out, spreading his feet wide for balance. He did _not_want to end up back in the pool, especially like this. The second thrust caused him to jerk forward a bit, but not nearly as much as before, and Ichigo relaxed a little, losing himself to sensation. Grimmjow's cock was thick as ever, pushing deep inside of him to hit that special spot that made his back bow, made his vision blur with pleasure.

It was all Ichigo could do to keep his grip on reality as Grimmjow increased his pace, slamming into him hard enough that the ladder clanged against the wall. The thing sent ripples across the pool with each thrust and Ichigo saw his classmates finally, belatedly looking around to find the source of the disturbance, but could not bring himself to care. He was quickly approaching the point of no return, with Grimmjow's hard length pounding him into submission. Nipples standing erect, Ichigo bucked back against the Espada, earning a surprised grunt from him and a slap on the ass, which sent a shudder of pleasure through his overloaded body. He swore when he came a second later, jets of semen spurting out to land in the pool and slide down the handrail. Gasping for breath as he came down from his high, Ichigo barely registered the tightening of Grimmjow's hands on his hips, barely heard the Espada's strained grunt as he emptied himself deep inside.

Grimmjow remained inside for a second before pulling out and letting go of Ichigo, who was still trying to regain his composure. Ichigo heard a rustling sound and assumed Grimmjow was straightening his clothing. He only wished he could do the same. Now that there was no more pleasure distract him, he was conscious of the vulnerable position he was in. If Grimmjow decided he wanted to have some more fun, there was not much Ichigo could do about it. Not that the whip was a real problem. Sure, it was leather, but it wasn't reiatsu resistant. It was more about the idea of control. Ichigo could free his hands if he absolutely needed to, but he knew the Espada wouldn't like it if he did. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off _again_by Grimmjow cursing.

"Ah shit. Forgot that asshole Aizen's havin' a meeting soon. Gotta go, Shinigami. You c'n take care of the rest." Before Ichigo could protest, he felt the tell tale shift in the air pressure announcing the Espada's departure.

Sighing, he set to work on the knots Grimmjow had made, trying his best to free his hands without damaging the whip. He didn't know if Grimmjow would be pissed about it. Not that it really mattered. The man was a complete asshole and would probably find some way to punish Ichigo regardless. He didn't know why he had let this happen to himself. It wasn't as if this was the first time Grimmjow had left him hanging.

Standing up and rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the ache, he stripped off the top half of the pink monstrosity Grimmjow had _gifted_him with and let it fall to the ground. Ichigo wasn't one for souvenirs, and half of a pink, frilly swimsuit wasn't going to change his mind.

.

Birthday fic for Gogosama.


	24. Don't be Stupid! GrimmIchi

**Pairing:** Grimmjow/Ichigo

**Rating/Warnings: **NC-17 / Sex

**Summary:** Ichigo is not very good at reading Grimmjow's moods.

**Notes:** Another one from 2007. Secret Santa fic for someone at bleach-bdsm (LJ). I hated it from the beginning but maybe you'll find some merit in it.

**Don't be Stupid!  
By: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Ichigo had no idea how long he'd been lying on the ground unconscious. All he knew was that he was happy to be alive. In a surprising move to outsiders, Grimmjow had brought Orihime to heal him from his battle with Ulquiorra. Even more surprising still, he had sent her away afterwards. Now the two of them were alone, ostensibly to fight, but it seemed Grimmjow had other plans. As Ichigo stood up and brushed the obnoxiously clingy sand from his hakama, he noticed the other man staring at him, his eyes narrowed slightly.

In a flash, Grimmjow was in front of him, his hand wrapped possessively around Ichigo's neck, fingernails digging into his flesh. Ichigo gasped and brought his hands up to Grimmjow's arm, eyes wide as Grimmjow's grip tightened slightly. He could feel the muscles in his throat working to swallow, but found that he could not. After a moment of strained silence, Grimmjow loosened his hold and stepped back, leaving Ichigo clutching his throat and coughing.

"The fuck was that for, asshole?" he choked when he had finally caught his breath, his hands dropping to his sides as he straightened his posture. Grimmjow's mouth turned down into a grimace, his lip curling in distaste.

"You should already fuckin' know dumbass," he retorted, advancing menacingly enough toward Ichigo that he took a step back, his hands balling into fists at his sides, ready to swing if things got ugly.

"You asking me to predict your every move? Because I've got no fucking clue what goes through your mind," Ichigo replied, one fist coming up to crudely wipe the spit from the corner of his mouth as he glared at the other man. A moment passed, then Grimmjow snorted.

"You should fuckin' know better'n pickin' a fight with Ulquiorra. That asshole's waaaay outta _your_league," Grimmjow said, his rough hand coming to rest on Ichigo's hip. "now I'm gonna have to put ya in your place for being such a fool. If you die, who the hell am I supposed to fuck?" Palms loose but ready, Ichigo tensed, waiting for a sign from the older man. Grimmjow's characteristic grin was back full force as he quickly stripped the sash from Ichigo's hakama, the fabric sliding down Ichigo's legs to the sandy ground before he had time to react. Eyes wide, Ichigo made a move to go for his downed hakama, but was stopped by Grimmjow's free hand grasping his arm.

"No, you don't. Yer gonna take this like the bitch you are," Grimmjow quipped as he tossed Ichigo's arm aside and made a move to go for his fundoshi, quickly undoing the knot at Ichigo's back and letting it drop to the sand with his hakama. A moment passed, then Grimmjow's hand was on him, jerking his cock roughly until it came to full attention, pre-come beading lewdly at the tip. Ichigo's breath hitched in his throat as Grimmjow crushed their lips together in a searing kiss, his mask scraping the side of Ichigo's face as he let go of his cock to fist a hand in his hair. A grunt escaped Ichigo at the loss of contact, but was muffled by Grimmjow's tongue as he probed his mouth, completely dominating the kiss.

Ichigo was so aroused that he almost didn't notice the fabric brushing against his cheek as Grimmjow brought the sash from his hakama up to his face. A second later Grimmjow leaned back, lips parted as he wound the sash around Ichigo's eyes and ears, blindfolding him. Immediately, Ichigo's hands flew to his face. The last time Grimmjow had blindfolded him, things hadn't gone too well. He had been tied to the bed and forced to taste his own come. Even though it hadn't been that bad, Ichigo had no wish for a repeat performance so soon. He tugged on the blindfold and groaned; Grimmjow had tied it really tight.

"Ah, the fuck you doing to me?" he griped, trying futilely to undo the tight knot at the back of his head. Grimmjow's answer was to push on Ichigo's shoulders until he got the message and sank down on his knees, the fabric of his hakama and fundoshi serving to cushion his skin against the harsh sand. The bindings on his eyes and ears were so tight and thorough, he couldn't see a thing, and his hearing wasn't much better off. The roar of the desert wind was muffled to a mere whisper. It was peaceful, but somehow exciting. Although he had his reservations, he found himself becoming horribly aroused, his cock dripping pre-come, which would no doubt stain if it were to land on the fabric of his hakama.

He reached a tentative hand down to touch his dick, hoping Grimmjow would let him. He was horny enough to take the risk. When he was met with no resistance from his partner, Ichigo fisted his cock and began a fast pace, pumping his hand up and down his hard dick until he threw his head back from the pleasure of it. He couldn't see Grimmjow's reaction, but he hoped he was enjoying the show. The thought turned him on so much that he couldn't help himself and came hard, back bowing from the sheer pleasure of his quickly-had orgasm. He collapsed forward on his hands, panting, body spent but fresh with the afterglow. Unexpectedly and before he could recover his breath, a stinging slap sent his head flying to the side. A second later, a rough hand yanked on his hair and drew him back to a kneeling position. Even through the covering on his ears, he could hear Grimmjow yelling.

"Ya goddamn selfish idiot! I was gonna take my time and fuck ya slow, but you asked for it!"

The hand in his hair tightened painfully and a second later, the head of Grimmjow's cock bumped Ichigo in the face. "Suck it good, and you better not use teeth or I'll kill ya," he heard Grimmjow exclaim, his voice strangely clear as he pressed his cock against Ichigo's lips. Knowing better than to argue, he obligingly opened his mouth. Immediately Grimmjow thrust his thick cock inside full force until he hit the back of Ichigo's throat, inches of the organ still having nowhere to go. Ichigo would have used his hands, but he knew better. Grimmjow liked it this way, being in control. As if he had read his mind, Grimmjow drew his cock back, and holding Ichigo's head firmly in place, rammed it back in. He began a brutal pace, slamming in and out of Ichigo's mouth so fast it was all he could do to keep from biting him or gagging. He tried to hold still as much as possible, but Grimmjow's powerful thrusts made his head shake and the hand on his head pull his hair. Grimmjow's pumped his long, thick cock into Ichigo's mouth again and again until suddenly, he stopped. Ichigo was left wondering what was going on until he heard a loud grunt and felt the spray of Grimmjow's hot come on his face and in his mouth. He quickly swallowed the substance before it could get too cold and leave an aftertaste, his hands coming up to his face to wipe the rest off as Grimmjow let go of his hair.

It was all over his chin, cheeks, and Ichigo realized as he felt upwards, the sash from his hakama.

"Hey, asshole! The fuck is your problem? You know I gotta wear this!" he yelled, knowing full well that although Grimmjow might be able to change his clothes anytime he wanted to, he sure couldn't. He heard Grimmjow's self-satisfied chuckle through the fabric even as he worked to undo it, the knot finally, belatedly, coming undone as he rose unsteadily to his feet. He quickly unwound the sticky fabric and threw it to the side, glaring at the grinning and impeccably clean Grimmjow.

"What's wrong dumbass, ain't got a spare? Some shinigami _you_are." He guffawed, his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

Ichigo could only stand there, half-naked and seething. Someday, if he ever made it alive out of Las Noches, he'd get Grimmjow back for this.


	25. Escape through Surrender AiBya

**Pairing:** Aizen/Byakuya

**Rating/Warnings:** R / Sex, some kink

**Summary:** Escape can come in many forms. Byakuya knows this better than most

**Notes:** Written circa 2008.

This is a sequel (or second chapter, if you prefer) to rosella_rising LJ's as of yet untitled fic ( .com(slash) ?). She kindly let me take her idea and write this. It makes a lot more sense if you read hers first, but if you are just here for the porn, that's okay too. All you need to know is that Byakuya is in Karakura town on a kind of vacation from himself. I highly encourage you though, if you have time, to read rozella-rising's story.

**Escape through Surrender  
By: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Byakuya left the bar at closing time. Although he had laid off on the alcohol hours before, he had not wanted to leave. All those bodies pressing close to him, much closer than anyone would _dare_to in Soul Society, combined with the dulling warmth of the alcohol coursing through his veins made him forget himself, his memories and troubles, everything. It was a most welcome respite from it all. No one knew him here. No one expected anything from him. He could be whomever he wanted, could lose himself in the crowd. Just him, just Byakuya, his officious last name left off. And even if he had mentioned it, no one would have cared. They didn't know his family, didn't know about Shinigami or Hollow or of the upcoming war at all. He was free here, and that was almost as intoxicating as the alcohol itself.

The walk back to his rented room was long, with him stumbling and almost falling several times. He wasn't as drunk as he had been a few hours previous, but was still pretty intoxicated. His reiatsu was down to a mere fraction of what he normally possessed. He was glad it would not matter here since he couldn't have fought a battle even if he wanted to.

Byakuya hesitantly climbed the stairs in the hotel, having to carefully think about each step he took. He was relieved no one he knew could see him like this. He would not be able to bear the shame of it if they did. Fumbling slightly in the unfamiliar pants on his gigai, Byakuya finally managed to extract his keycard and let himself into his hotel room. He stumbled into the dark space and shut the door behind him, making sure it was locked. He didn't bother to turn on a light. All he wanted to do was lay down and sleep. Feeling his way along the wall, he found the bed and flopped down onto it, kicking off his shoes and socks before rolling over. If he was going to be drunk, by god he was going to go all out with it.

He was just about to doze off when a warm chuckle skirted the edge of his awareness, causing a jolt of adrenaline to surge through his system. His eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up, reaching for a sword that wasn't there. Across the room, by the window, there was movement, a clicking noise, and the room was flooded with light. Byakuya squinted against the sudden brightness, trying to determine exactly who was in the room with him. Gradually he made out the brown hair and deceptively serene face of Aizen Sousuke and his eyes widened in surprise. If he had been anyone else, his jaw would, no doubt, have dropped. But he was Kuchiki Byakuya, and even on a binge of escapism, there were some things he would never do. His only other reaction was his hand tightening slightly around the comforter on which he was sitting. He tried to raise enough reiatsu to leave his gigai, but found he could not. That was odd.

Aizen moved closer to the bed and chuckled again. "You should know better than that, Byakuya. It's useless to resist my kidou, especially when you are in such a _vulnerable_condition." His voice sent shivers down Byakuya's spine. Surprised at Aizen's words, he lifted his shirt and looked down, finally noticing the small ring of yellow reiatsu encircling his torso. It was thin and flat, close to his body. Now that he was looking right at it, he could feel the humming energy next to his skin, but before he hadn't noticed it at all. Had his senses truly been dulled that much? He frowned.

"When…." he trailed off, not bothering to finish his sentence, knowing Aizen would understand what he meant. His reply was met with the briefest of smiles from the other man.

"While you were dozing off, of course," Aizen said, stepping closer until he was at the foot of the bed, mere inches from Byakuya's feet. He paused for a moment before reaching down to fondle the other man's calf, pushing his fingers under the cloth of Byakuya's pants until they were met with his bare skin.

Byakuya flinched away from the contact, bringing his legs closer to him. "Don't touch me," he said, his voice low and if one could believe it, faintly uncertain. Aizen only smiled, sinking down on the bed and shifting over until he was closer to the man. "All this time I've been trying to forget, but you won't let me, will you?"

"You will always belong to me," Aizen replied, his low voice like steel as he leaned in and suddenly gripped Byakuya's inner thigh near the erection that was already starting to form. Byakuya shuddered, closing his eyes as the other man scooted closer to him, parting his legs and sliding in-between until he was level with Byakuya's crotch. He sucked in a breath and opened his eyes.

"You are a traitor to Soul Society. You left them, left me." He tried to get away, but was stopped by Aizen's firm hand on his waist.

"You could have come with me, _should_have come with me," Aizen replied, the hand on Byakuya's waist shifting to his belt buckle. He pulled it loose and undid the clasp on Byakuya's pants underneath, slowly, torturously, sliding the zipper down past his growing erection.

Byakuya sighed and shuddered as warm hands pushed themselves past underwear and wrapped themselves around his cock. "I am Kuchiki," he breathed, "if I do not uphold the laws, who will?"

"You are _my _Kuchiki, and you follow only me," Aizen said, one hand pulling Byakuya's underwear over his cock. He fisted the organ in his other hand as he brought his hot mouth down over the tip, using his tongue to paint circles with the pre-come there.

"Yes…" Byakuya agreed, barely suppressing a moan. He sagged in defeat, wilting back on the bed, granting Aizen full access to his body. Every time they saw each other, it was always the same questions, the same answers. It was a game they played, one Byakuya always lost.

Aizen leaned back and smirked at the noble, swiftly reaching down to pull Byakuya's pants and underwear down to his ankles. Byakuya kicked the offending garments the rest of the way off, closing his eyes and spreading his legs for the other man. He turned his face to the side in a classic gesture of submission, baring his neck as he waited for the other man to make his move. Aizen was a rough lover, preferring to completely dominate his partner than to share any of the power of the act. It was surprisingly consistent of him, actually, and just what Byakuya craved about him. Aizen was his drug, his guilty pleasure, and he couldn't get enough.

In an instant, Aizen was on him, pulling his shirt until the buttons popped off, his mouth immediately attacking the side of Byakuya's neck, all teeth and tongue, hot and fast. Byakuya's eyes rolled back into his head as the other man simultaneously groped his ass, inserting one slick finger into the tight opening there. He had no idea when Aizen had gotten the lube ready, and he didn't care. Aizen pumped his finger into Byakuya's ass a few more times, spreading the slickness around inside before inserting two more wet fingers to join the first. These were soon withdrawn and replaced by the far thicker hardness of Aizen's cock. He pressed it teasingly at Byakuya's entrance, slowly sliding inside as he moved to chew on the noble's earlobe.

Byakuya moaned softly, his cock twitching as Aizen both drew blood on his ear and slid himself fully inside. He wrapped his legs around the other man as Aizen pumped into him excruciatingly slow, his hips undulating underneath the conquering man, silently begging for more. He wanted it hard and fast, wanted to bathe in the glorious feeling of giving up all of his control. Aizen drew away from his ear, smearing blood down Byakuya's chest with his lips as he backed away. He chuckled as if he knew what Byakuya was thinking, what he wanted. Aizen whispered incantations that left Byakuya's hands bound together above his head and his legs tied closed, feet to butt, on each side of Aizen's body. He looked down on Byakuya and smirked. The possessive look in his eyes combined with the delicious pressure from the reiatsu bindings was enough to make Byakuya shiver, his cock twitching with need.

It seemed this was all the indication of pleasure Aizen needed. He gripped the bound man's hips hard, nails digging into the noble's skin-sure to leave marks-, and began a fast pace, his cock slamming into Byakuya's ass hard enough that he nearly hit the headboard with every thrust. The pleasure of relinquishing control to the other man, of knowing that he was absolutely helpless was intense, and it wasn't long before Byakuya came, back bowing, white jets of semen shooting out to mingle with the blood on his chest. Aizen had much more endurance than that, and he kept going for some time, long enough for Byakuya to grow half-hard again, before coming hard, his nails scoring Byakuya's hips as he filled his ass with the proof of his dominance. A soft grunt was the only other indication he felt anything.

After a moment's pause, Aizen pulled out and slid off the bed.

"Remember who you belong to, Byakuya, and don't make any more mistakes by defying me further," Aizen said, one hand squeezing the noble's cock, causing him to moan. He stood up and released the kidou holding the other man captive, watching as Byakuya's legs shook as he unfolded them.

Byakuya nodded in response, his eyes closed. It was always the same between them.

"I must be going. Until next time…" Aizen said, tucking himself back into his pants as he made his way to the door. Byakuya supposed he should thank him for not opening a portal in his room, but he was just too tired. He lay there panting lightly, trying to decide if he had enough energy to get up and take a shower.

He rolled on his side, his eyes narrowing as he got up and wobbled off in the direction of the bathroom. It was going to be hard to explain the damage to his gigai. Byakuya felt embarrassed and shamed just thinking about it.

.

A big thank you to rozella-rising for letting me run with her original idea My muse loffles you.

I'm really not trying to make Byakuya a total bottom here. He just has some needs, as any powerful man might, that can only be fulfilled by Aizen IMO.


	26. Clean SzayGrimm

**Pairing:** Szayel/Grimmjow

**Rating/Warnings:** R / Sex, some bathing kink

**Summary:** Cleanliness is next to Perfection.

**Notes:** Giving credit where it is due: I appropriated a few of Grimmjow's lines from the lovely SZP, who is much better at him than I will ever be.

**Clean  
By: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Grimmjow leered at him from across the room as he lately often did.

The situation was not arbitrary. Things didn't just happen to Szayel Aporro Granz. He made them happen. Szayel knew it. Everyone possessing a modicum of intelligence knew it. Which, of course, meant Grimmjow was completely oblivious to the fact he played right into Szayel's hands.

Szayel took his time leaving after the meeting and so did Grimmjow. When Szayel exited the room, there was a pause. Then he heard the Sexta's less than quiet footsteps heading in the same direction. Not an unusual occurrence by any means. However, Szayel could tell by the coiling, vicious nature of the man's reiatsu that today would be the day he cracked. Assuming he hadn't already, of course.

"Hey."

Szayel's smirk was fleeting. By the time he turned around, his features were schooled into his usual aloof mask.

"Yes?" His tone, too, did nothing to suggest he had any ulterior motives.

Grimmjow sauntered closer, but Szayel didn't allow his gaze to drift down those well-toned abs.

"Been thinking." Grimmjow paused. Under ordinary circumstances, Szayel would have offered him both his surprise and congratulations. Now, he simply placed a hand on his hips.

"And?"

The man's gaze traveled the length of Szayel's body, pausing at all the relevant areas. Szayel's skin tingled under the weight of it, even through his outfit.

"We should fuck."

Szayel gave no indication of his satisfaction. Instead, one slender, pink eyebrow arched high.

"Presumptuous of you, Jeagerjaquez." Szayel fixed him with his patented deadpan stare. Grimmjow did nothing but grin in return.

"Don't think so, Granz." The next second he slammed his hand against the wall above Szayel's head. As if such an immature tactic would have changed Szayel's mind had he not already made it up.

Grimmjow leaned in close.

"It ain't presuming if you know something's true."

"Your absurd little fantasies are no concern of mine, Jeagerjaquez. Really, how ridiculous of you to even think that I could ever reciprocate. But, then again, I suppose I should have expected such idiocy from one so-"

Grimmjow's mask pressed against his face, and his lips-it wasn't even a real kiss, but a bid for complete domination. Unfortunately for Grimmjow's precious ego, perfection was not so easily cowed. Especially not when he was the one actually in control of the situation.

Szayel pushed him with much of the strength that once marked him as the Cero Espada. Grimmjow stumbled back a step. His eyes were narrow and his breathing a little heavier than normal.

"As I said, I'm not interested." He gave Grimmjow his best bored look and made to slide out from between the man's chiseled body and the wall. The move, as with everything Szayel Aporro did, was calculated. And sure enough, Grimmjow's other arm slammed into the wall to ostensibly trap him.

"Such a fucking liar. I ought to-"

"You ought to what, hmm?" Szayel smirked. "Is this how you treat all of your prospective partners-no, actually that doesn't surprise me. However, I do wonder if you've ever had someone actually consent to-"

This time it was Grimmjow's dry palm that covered his mouth. The other cupped Szayel's ass.

"Less talking, more action, Granz. We both know you want it."

Such audacity. Szayel was tempted to bite him. But he would reserve that for a more pleasant occasion. Grimmjow still grinned. He leaned in closer and sniffed at Szayel's hair. No doubt the scent of shampoo was utterly foreign to him, which was why, after Szayel wrenched the hand none-too-gently from his mouth-

"Even supposing I agreed, I would never sleep with someone who doesn't bathe." Szayel's upper lip curled. This time he used sonido to escape from Grimmjow's grasp.

The other man spun, an insult no doubt ready to fly. It was too late.

"Someone who can't even manage something so very basic couldn't possibly have what it takes to satisfy me." Szayel left him with a sneer. He sped back to the peace and tranquility of his domain, something no one dared violate. Other Espada might have issues with interlopers on their property, but never the Octava. Espada and Numeros alike were too afraid of what lay in wait there. As they should be. Szayel Aporro might not have retained the title of Cero Espada, but he was still the most dangerous of all his fellows. On some instinctual level, they all knew it and avoided his area.

Not today. Not when he rebuffed the Sexta and challenged his pride.

Sure enough, his perimeter alarms went off within a few hours. Szayel would have known even without them though. The fool made no attempt to shield his malevolent reiatsu. Nor did he use sonido. No, Grimmjow was slow and steady in his pursuit.

There was something beautiful about a desire so pure and so base. Truly, Szayel had outdone himself this time.

Lucky for Grimmjow that Szayel wanted him intact. He deactivated the myriad traps that lay between the Sexta and himself even as he altered the hallways to make the man's route the longest possible. All the better to take his time analyzing him. Sex wasn't the only thing he would take from Grimmjow before all this was over. Szayel had his priorities, after all.

Szayel had all of his sensitive equipment and experiments safely locked away by the time Grimmjow reached him. The large room was bare save for a few specimen tables and tanks, all for show. Szayel turned from where he had ostensibly been studying some notes-scrap paper, in truth.

"My, my, how persistent."

Then, as before, he allowed Grimmjow the illusion of control. The man was on him in an instant. He grabbed Szayel's neck and slammed him down on the table. Szayel didn't even blink.

"I acknowledge your determination, Jeagerjaquez. But do you really think this is the best way to seduce me?"

"Yeah, actually. I do." Grimmjow's hand was already on him. It slid roughly down his chest and down to rest on one protruding hip bone, where Szayel caught it. Perhaps he wasn't as stupid as he appeared.

"If you want to 'fuck,' as you so crudely put it, there are conditions." That little trip through his halls hadn't been for nothing. Szayel plucked Grimmjow's hand from his body with ease and straightened to a sitting position. Grimmjow's other hand remained around his throat. This tightened as the other man's eyes narrowed.

"We both know you want this, so shut the fuck up already," Grimmjow said. His hand tightened even more, but all Szayel did was smile. Before things could escalate any further, he snapped his fingers. One of his Fraccion waited for just that. It flipped the switch it was standing by, and Grimmjow's hand slipped from Szayel's throat as he flew back, almost as if he had been grabbed.

"-the hell," was the only expletive Grimmjow managed to utter before the man's body hitting the wall shattered his illusion of control.

"First, let us get rid of those soiled clothes of yours." The serene smile never left Szayel's face, even as he first ran a gloved hand down Grimmjow's abdomen and then ripped off his excuse for a jacket. His hakama and fundoshi were next. Grimmjow strained against his invisible bonds and bared his teeth when he was not busy emitting a stream of expletives. Yet still, when Szayel's gaze raked over his naked body, the man's cock swelled and rose.

"Tempting," Szayel said, as he snapped his fingers again. "But you still need a bath."

Szayel stepped back as silver rods descended from the ceiling to begin spraying Grimmjow with a warm, fine mist of water and cleansers. He slipped out of his own clothes with a sinuous grace that kept the man's gaze riveted to him. By the time he was finished and stood nude and ready, the mist stopped. Szayel stepped in close so that their bodies were flush against each other.

"Now." Szayel followed a bead of water down Grimmjow's chest with his tongue. He slipped lower while running his hands down the man's sides. Grimmjow made sopping wet look good. "What shall we do about this, hmmm?"

Szayel didn't wait for an answer. He ran his tongue over the head of Grimmjow's cock and then took him into his mouth without further preamble. Grimmjow stiffened and let out a low groan as Szayel demonstrated just why his zanpakutou was named Fornicaras. He took the man's cock deep into his throat without gagging and then began working him in earnest.

It didn't take long for Grimmjow to come like that. When all the groans and curses subsided for the most part, Szayel stepped back to lick his lips. He nodded to his Fraccion and it threw the switch again. Grimmjow slid down the wall, his legs like jelly.

"Fuck," he said. "Fucking...what the fuck, Granz." He was already hard again due to the little present Szayel had bestowed on him using his tongue. Really, Grimmjow was lucky Szayel wanted him. There were a myriad of other substances he might have used had his motivation differed.

Grimmmjow took a few steps and then rolled his back. "That's more like it," Grimmjow said, finally. If he cared that he had been overpowered by the Octava, it didn't show. Szayel surmised it was probably because of the blow job he had just given him. He doubted very much Grimmjow had ever had one even close to that good. The Sexta had never had perfection suck his cock before, after all. Whatever the reason, he soon had Szayel turned around and pinned to a nearby table.

"You're a freak," he said, as he buried himself inside. "A fucking freak."

Grimmjow's breath hitched at the words. Through the haze of pain and pleasure-just the right mixture-Szayel congratulated himself once again on his conquest.

Return to the beast but a modicum of his own depravity and he became Szayel's purring pet. This was far from over. In fact, it was but the beginning of something sick and beautiful.


	27. Eyes to See AiSzay

**Pairing: **Aizen/Szayel

**Ratings/Warnings: T / None**

**Summary:** Aizen recognizes and utilizes potential.

**Notes:** This one is for Emochromatic who wanted Aizen to acknowledge Szayel's greatness. First Aizen, next the world!

**Eyes to See**

**By: Ryoko (Lewd Concubine)**

Aizen smiled down at his Octava from his white, white throne.

"Aizen-sama, if you will permit me."

"Certainly."

The Arrancar dropped to one knee as a matter of course before giving his report.

"There are four intruders." Here the Octava began to rattle off details concerning those come to see him. Or, rather, to rescue the human girl.

Aizen did not pay much attention. He already knew everything the Octava would say. Therefore, his mind was not stationed in the present but rather in the future where it usually resided.

These would not be the only intruders into his domain. As planned, others would follow. Kuchiki Byakuya would come for his sister if not the honor of Soul Society. Zaraki Kenpachi was a certainty. Then they would need a healer and certainly a scientist.

Aizen knew Soul Society's battle tactics well. After all, he had contributed a great deal to that very literature albeit under various pseudonyms.

"-several captains, one Kuchiki Byakuya among others have opened gargantua in the living world."

As always, the part of Aizen's mind taking in the Octava's every word alerted him to the presence of important information. He immediately put aside his plans for the moment and gave the Espada his full attention.

Neither Aizen's reiatsu nor his appearance betrayed any change yet still Szayel Aporro Granz noticed. He straightened just the slightest bit and answered Aizen's unspoken question.

"I had some sensors installed in Karakura Town recently." He dropped his head and went down into a low bow. "Please forgive my presumptuousness, Aizen-sama. I only wanted to please you."

"Of course."

Aizen waited a beat before continuing. It was enough time for even someone like Szayel Aporro to tremble. Or, at least, for his reiatsu to take on an uncertain edge.

What marvelous control he possessed to be able to insert a false emotion into it.

"We should, perhaps, utilize your artificial gargantua in other areas." Szayel Aporro could not see Aizen's genuine smile through his hair. Yet still the Espada stiffened and this was no act, Aizen knew.

"Yes, Aizen-sama," came the too-cheerful reply. Szayel Aporro stayed bent over where he really belonged and Aizen's blood sang in his veins at the victory.

This was all part of their particular game and Aizen was only too happy to assert his dominance over his most dangerous Espada.

Yes, Szayel Aporro had been one of his most prized finds. Besides Gin, he was Aizen's favorite companion. This was for many reasons, but mainly because Aizen preferred to be around those who actually posed him a threat. While not as strong now, Szayel Aporro more than made up for it in other areas. He was equally as sly as Gin and almost as intelligent as Aizen himself.

Soon, he would bring him even closer. For now though, Aizen ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth as he savored Szayel Aporro's oh, so subtle anger at being rendered impotent once again at his hand.


	28. NnoiSzay Music Meme Drabbles

**Pairing: **Nnoitra Gilga/Szayel Aporro Granz

**Rating: R**

**Notes: **5 NnoiSzay drabbles written for the music meme. Each inspired by and written solely during a single song.

.

**Rammstein - Der Meister**

Nnoitra kicked in the door with one booted foot. The crash rang throughout Szayel's laboratory. No sign of the man, but that didn't bother him. He'd just destroy shit until Szayel showed his face.

Nnoitra grinned and stomped inside. His eye lit on a pretty expensive looking piece of equipment to the side. A second later and Nnoitra's boot exploded through it, causing electrical sparks and metal to fly everywhere.

The power flickered and from behind him Nnoitra heard a disgusted groan.

"Again, Nnoitra?"

He turned his head with a smirk ready on his face.

"There ya are." Nnoitra retracted his long, long leg and stepped over to the man.

"Here I am," Szayel said, with the same faint disgust as before.

Nnoitra towered over him and leered.

.

**Within Temptation - Stand My Ground**

The hand around his throat clenched tighter as Nnoitra lifted him further up the wall. Spots danced before Szayel Aporro's eyes but still he didn't make a move. Szayel's hands hung limp at his sides. His calm gaze met Nnoitra's heated one.

He smiled.

Nnoitra scowled at him and then let him drop in disgust. He stepped away from the still placid Szayel spewing expletives.

Only when he was gone did Szayel clear his throat, rub his neck, and finally laugh. It was harsh and discordant, much like their relationship.

.

**Epica - Adagio [Live in Miskolc]**

Szayel worked his hallways so that Nnoitra would have to take the long way to get to him. A smile curved perfect lips upward as he thought about exactly how frustrated Nnoitra would be when he arrived.

He could hear a variety of creative and vulgar combinations dropping out of the Quinta's mouth as he went. Music to his ears.

Szayel sat back in his chair and watched as Nnoitra eventually began to beat his walls with Santa Teresa. All in vain.

Not too long after that, the man broke into sonido. He dodged trap after trap-Szayel wasn't about to make it easy on the man, after all.

Finally, there was a loud boom as Nnoitra kicked his door in for the umpteenth time.

He came in panting and with murder in his eyes.

"Fuckin'...fuck, Szayel!"

It was all the warning Szayel had before Nnoitra was on him. Szayel allowed his hands to be pinned behind his back. He even leaned his head to the side so Nnoitra could have better access to his neck. The man brought him close and then bit down savagely on tender flesh.

Szayel gasped as his uniform began to turn red with his blood.

Next, Nnoitra traded his hands for his hair and flipped him around.

With Nnoitra's hot arousal pressing into his back and his hips jammed against the cold work panel, Szayel was exactly where he wanted to be.

He gave Nnoitra an appreciative moan and the man ground against him.

All according to plan.

.

**Hora - INNER ELEMENTS**

Nnoitra couldn't help but stare as Szayel pulled the curtain covering his latest invention down.

"The fuck-" he managed to get out before Szayel, of course, launched into an explanation.

"Lovely, isn't it? You said, and I quote, 'there's gotta be something besides sun and stars.'" The soft pitter patter of water on reinforced glass sent a shiver down his spine.

"Do you remember rain, Nnoitra?"

His eye went wide as Szayel opened the glass door and stepped outside, beckoning him to join.

.

**HIM - One Last Time**

Nnoitra held him closer than ever before. They didn't speak. There was nothing left to say. Even Szayel, with his infamous penchant for verbal diarrhea, was silent.

Sprawled before them lay the smoking ruins of Seireitei. It was over. It was all over. Aizen, of course, left immediately for the King's Realm.

This dimension was now theirs.

Nnoitra Gilga and Szayel Aporro Granz stood on the precipice of the future wavering with uncertainty.

With all their enemies vanquished, what obstacle remained?

They came together out of the fear that made them what they were, though each would rather die all over again than admit it.

Eventually the moment would pass, but for now they found strength in their solidarity against looming possibility.


End file.
